you have given me no choice but to stay
by weloveuntilwedie
Summary: "Of course she's different and special, Jake, you say that about every girl." Jake/Marley, mentions of Quinn/Puck, slight AU, t for language
1. you're my sweetheart

**{Part one}**

…

"_love we need it now, let's hope for some so we're bleeding now._"

…

"What's her name?" Quinn asks, smiling knowingly as picks up a tangerine from the fruit bowl and starts peeling it. She sits down next to Jake on a stool behind the kitchen island.

"What?" Jake looks up from his phone, startled and Quinn lets out a small laugh. She's gotten to know her husband's little half brother pretty well over the past weeks, they'd always gotten along but ever since he moved into her home a few weeks back during summer— a whole new world of Jake Puckerman had opened up. Jake's mother had gotten a job in Europe, a once in a life time offer she couldn't refuse. Puck and Quinn had offered their home to Jake, so he could at least finish his senior year in the US. (Quinn was trying to convince him to go to college _subtly_ by strategically placing pamphlets about various colleges around the house and continuously mentioning how '_ fun college years were_' and how '_she had the most educational and best time of her life_'.)

"Come on, Jake. You've been staring at your phone for ten minutes now and I'm pretty sure you're not waiting for that Sam guy to text you the geometry homework, are you?" Quinn raises her eyebrows challengingly. Sam was a guy in his class he'd been complaining about since his first day of school, only a couple of days ago. He kept talking to him in some Avatar language and doing impressions of celebrities he had never heard off.

Jake sighed, unlocking his phone once again and tapping his foot on the footrest of his stool impatiently. "I don't really want to talk about it with you, Quinn."

Quinn shrugs as she eats a piece of the orange good in her hands, "So you want to talk about with _Puck_?" Quinn smirks slightly (and sometimes Jake forgets how devious she really is). "Or maybe with one of your _many_ friends at school?"

Jake was kind of a loner (kind of as in definitely) and spent the entire summer huddled up inside playing video games with Puck, messing around with Jayden or playing pranks on Quinn. Most of the time he ended up doing nothing. He hasn't made any friends at school yet either, telling them he, as an LA kid (born and raised), was '_too badass for Lima losers_' and everybody was '_scared shitless of him_'.

"Fine," he mutters as he puts his phone down yet again, obviously disappointed that there was nothing new (yet). "Her name is Marley Rose. She's in a few of my classes."

"Oh, so you're on last name base already? After a few days? Impressive," Quinn nodded her head, her voice sarcastic as she ate another piece of tangerine.

He narrows his eyes slightly, "If you don't shut up I will just ignore you and I'll never talk to you about stuff like this again."

"Stuff? As in.. Sex?" Quinn put the food in her hands down, blinking a few times. "I know you don't want to hear this, but please use protection. You know what happened to your brother and me, and God bless Beth, but I don't want you to make the same mistake as we did."

"Quinn, please stop, I'm not a virgin and no offense, but I'm not an idiot either," his cheeks colored slightly and Quinn let out a deep breath. "Besides, Marley.. She's different. She's special." He grinned and Quinn resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

"Of course she's different and special, Jake, you say that about every girl," Quinn smiles at him teasingly before reaching over to punch his shoulder. She recalled the nights in which Puck told her about one of Jake's recent catches— about how this girl was different, and this girl was special and each time she turned out to be not that different and not that special either. (Probably because each time the girl was blonde, tall and dim. She didn't have anything against blondes— she _was_ one herself after all— but one time during Thanksgiving dinner in LA he introduced them to a girl who wrote her name in crayon, and not exactly effortless.)

"Whatever, I guess she kind of redefined the words."

"Listen Jake," Quinn's face softened, "Do you want me to talk to Finn? Ask him what he knows about Marley?" Quinn referred to her and Puck's old highschool friend. He worked as a music and Glee club teacher at Jake's school.

"Did you just _not_ hear everything I said?" Jake shook his head slightly, "I like her. I don't want to stalk her and fucking scare her off."

Quinn eyes hardened at his language before she smiled softly, "Okay, fine. What was her last name again?" Quinn pulled out her own iPhone and dragged her finger over the small screen.

"Marley Rose," Jake rolls his eyes as he tightens his jaw. His sister in law could be so annoying.

Quinn's eyes lit up, "That's the reverend's daughter!" Her smile faded, as she let out a tiny gasps,"That is the reverend's daughter, Jake!"

"No shit," Jake licked his lips, "Don't worry, Q. I'm not just going to hump and dump her."

"Well— I'll go pick out a new church, just in case. Maybe I could become a Jew, too? Sounds good, right?" Quinn offered, half joking. "We could wear those silly hats together."

"Those are just for males," Jake reminds her, cocking an eyebrow. He thought she went to college and shit, shouldn't she be smarter?

"Just please," Quinn's voice softens and her green eyes catch his, "Be careful, okay, Jake?"

He nods his head, repeating firmly, "I really like her, Quinn."

"Is little Jakey in love?" Puck enters the kitchen as he makes kissy faces before pulling open the refrigerator, missing the apple Jake threw at his head just in time.

Quinn widens her eyes at him as she purses her lips, she folds her hands together on the table in front of her as she stares him down. Jake rolls his eyes, grabbing up the apple before throwing it back into the fruit bowl.

Jayden pulls on his leg before he can sit down, "Uncle Jake, uncle Jake, do you want to play hide and seek with me?" Jake smiles picking up Jayden and flipping him upside down, holding on to his legs.

"Sure, little buddy."

"Be careful," Quinn exclaims, and he raises his eyebrows at the horrified look on her face. She was such a fucking girl.

Jake huffs, swaying him from the side to side a little as he smirks. "I won't drop him." Jayden giggles, Quinn however glares at him as slaps her husband's chest. She hisses, "Do something, Puck."

"_Jake_ put him down," Puck smirks as Jake rolls his eyes yet again (something that seems to be a habit whenever he's around the two of them).

"You guys are such pussies," he tells them as he puts Jayden back down and Quinn gasps. The little five year old boy laughs, enthralled by his mother's reaction to Jake's words. "Pussies," he repeats and Puck muffles a laugh. Quinn however, isn't even the slightest bit amused.

"You are so grounded, Jake Puckerman," Quinn points her finger at him and he forgot how scary Quinn could be.

"Quinn," he pleads but she shakes her head, "No. And playtime is over. You need to make your homework. I got a call from your math teacher the other day saying you hadn't showed up to a single class ever since you joined McKinley. You're heading into the same direction as your brother."

"Ouch," Puck mocked her, putting a hand to his heart— trying to lighten the mood but his wife ignored him.

"Oh, but Quinn," Jake's voice dripped with sarcasm, "He turned out all right. He has you, hasn't he? What a_ lucky_ guy!"

Quinn narrowed her eyes and Jake made the wise choice to back away. "Sorry, Jay, your mommy wants me to do boring school stuff." Jake scrunched his nose as he lowered himself to the little boy's level.

"That's alright. School's fun," Jayden smiled big, showing off his two missing front teeth. Jake grimaces at his words before ruffling the boy's hair and getting up.

"Well, he certainly didn't get that from me," Puck snickers but shuts up as soon as Quinn shoots him another one of her loopy Quinn glares. No one missed her smug smirk though.

Jake places a quick kiss on Quinn's cheek, smirking at her (he knows he's only pissing her off more and it'll come back to bite him in the ass soon enough) before rushing up to his room.

He checks his phone one more time, but still no messages. So he turns to his homework since Quinn shut down the WiFi and disconnected his tv (see, she _was _smart). Damn homework.

…

He tries going to his math class, okay? He tries walking there but as soon as he spots Mr. O'Malley— and smells the musty air from chalk, cold sweat and fucking _math_— he feels like drowning himself.

Marley has the same class, but that makes it even worse. Sure, he wants to see here but then he'll risk embarrassing himself by saying something stupid. (Besides, she's just a girl. Just a girl he talked to once or twice. He's Jake Puckerman, he doesn't do shit because of a _girl_.)

He's just not that good at math (at all his classes overall but math just seems like a foreign language to him— like Spanish but then different, it doesn't even make any fucking sense, okay?). It's like he gets it until they start throwing in the alphabet. The other day he opened his book onto a random page and they were using exclamation points. He doesn't know what the fuck is wrong with whoever came up with that, but that was not okay.

So he sits out on the bleachers instead. It's quiet and secluded and he can actually hear himself think here. Lima was so different from Los Angeles. He didn't believe in the whole '_city people'_ thing until now. People were people, right? That didn't change when you left a state. People were still assholes.

Or so he thought until he entered McKinley. People here were much duller, and besides the occasional stoner or '_skank_' there wasn't much variation between people. Being half white, half black at a school with only three black guys to begin with wasn't easy either.

Marley was different though, not because of her looks (she was insanely fucking pretty but never mind that) or her skills (she was so smart, she had almost all AP classes and he heard she had a killer voice that he would very much like to hear one day) but everything about her, really. She was much different from him. He was a city boy and she was a country girl— but he could feel it, you know? That feeling that she was one of those people that was destined for more, for greatness.

He was lab partners with her in AP chemistry (the only class besides music that actually made sense to him which he knew was weird but fuck it) and she sat a seat ahead and a row across from him in AP lit. He knew he wasn't dumb, but most classes just didn't interest him so why bother?

School just wasn't his thing. Thinking about girls who he hasn't gotten more from besides bright smiles in the hallways and hasn't said anything more to besides '_hi_' and '_hey_' and hasn't done any more with than a fleeting brush of arms and a quick handshake when they met. That wasn't his thing. He didn't get obsessed by a girl, he didn't get infatuated by a girl— it was fucking strange to say the least.

"What are you doing out here by yourself?" A voice interrupted his thoughts, coming from behind him— from the very top of the bleachers. He turned his head. It was Marley. Fucking figures.

"I could ask you the same," he smirked as she sat down next to him. He spotted the bible in her bag and almost rolled his eyes (Sure, he was all for religion, he was a Jew and all, but carrying a bible around everywhere you go? Fucking weird. That's like him carrying around his x-box manual). "Shouldn't you be in class?"

"Lunch started," she raises her eyebrows, reaching down her bag to grab a sandwich. "But I didn't see you in class today again. You don't like math?"

He tightened his jaw, leaning back on his arms as he shook his head. He looked out on the football field but he could feel her stare on him. "No. "

"So you don't get it?" She asked him in that sweet voice that could turn him absolutely crazy but somehow only pissed him off. Who did she think she was? Fucking prancing around in her skirts and judging him like she's Facebook friends with God himself and running around in his thoughts the entire day? She was _no one_.

"What? You think I'm dumb?" His head snapped towards her and her cheeks turned pink. He really hated himself for making always smiling Marley _not_ smile (he was a fucking asshole all right).

"I don't think you're dumb, Jake," she bit her bottom lip looking down at her shoes. "I didn't mean to draw conclusions. I just.. I—I just thought that… That.."

He grabbed his bag, getting up. He took one more glance at her, a hurt expression on her face, her hair blowing in the mind before he left her by herself. His words left hanging in the air.

"Yeah, that's the problem. You don't know anything about me."

…

He couldn't really help it that he build this wall around him whenever a girl (or anyone for that matter) got too close (and in _her_ case that was really fast— like she cast this spell on him that he couldn't shake off) but now Marley hadn't looked at him in two weeks and during chemistry lab she only said the necessary words. Something about the way she still said '_could you pass me the water_' so sweetly, so angelic made him feel like he was the fucking devil himself .

"Sorry," he mumbled one particular Tuesday before their AP lit class at her locker. He wasn't good at apologies but she seemed amazing at forgiving. She smiled at him, "Have you finished Romeo and Juliet yet? I finished it in two nights, it was so romantic."

He shook his head, as she continued talking about the play. They started walking to class and in the middle of the hallway he interrupted her, "Hey, Marley?"

"Yeah?" She looks up at him from under her eyelashes, biting down on her bottom lip, and man, he just really wants to be able to reach over and kiss her.

"About math.. Do you think you could help me?"

…

"Jake.. What are you doing?" Quinn asks him suspiciously, her hand on her side as she walks towards him, putting a hand on his forehead. "You don't have a temperature.. Is there something you need to tell me? Why is your room clean? Why are you reading a book? Oh God.. Noah, call an ambulance!" She calls out, a smirk forming on her lips.

"Ha-ha," he pushes her hand away, "Marley is coming over to help me with math. You knew that."

"Oh," she draws out the word teasingly, "Your _girlfriend_ Marley?" She misses the shoe aimed for her head just in time but what she doesn't is the grin Jake isn't able to wipe off his face for the life of him.

…

"Well— you can use the exclamation point instead of writing it all out. It's actually really handy. You just need to figure out when to use it and when not," she told him as she pointed her pencil at his messy handwriting in his notebook. Her head was resting on her fist and her lips were shiny and she smelled so fucking good. He was really, _honestly_ trying to pay attention but whenever she started talking he instead stared at her.

"Jake?" She asked, waving her hand in front of his face. "You're staring." Her smile widened and her hair shined in the light and her eyes sparkled and he just— fuck. Her tongue dips out to wet her bottom lip before she bites down on it softly and he's thinking off dead kittens and his mom's boobs by now.

"So fucking hot," he mumbles, not quite yet fully conscious of the fact she's actually here and not just in his dreams and he's talking out loud. Her eyes widened and her cheeks colored as she opened her mouth to say something. He blinked a few times, sitting up. "I mean, it's really hot." He stands up to open his window and at the same time wonders where the fuck his smooth moves went.

…

"What the fuck.." He mutters as he looked at the complicate description of their next lab practicum. He adjusted the safety glasses on his nose as Marley shook a flask with a blue liquid.

She muffled a laugh, "Look, all you have to do is suck on the pipette so it the liquid reaches the blue bar. Just be careful not to swallow it." She looked really fucking adorable with her hair up, a few strands falling in her face and smiling like she was so excited about actually finding out the results of this damn assignment. He shook his head to himself, since when did he think fucking girls were '_adorable_'? This was all just so weird.

His eyes lingered on the gold cross around her neck (even though it wasn't all about sex with Marley, he still really cared about that part a lot.. with her and he couldn't help but think that damn cross was going to get in the way of it) before moving over to suck on the pipette.

She laughed as he had great difficulty with getting the liquid high enough to reach the blue bar, when he finally managed it he reached out of high five her. She burst out into a fit of giggles as she pointed at the pipette, the liquid slowly moving down again,"You have— you have to— k-keep your thumb on— on it."

He laughs along with her— because how could he not?— and maybe he didn't completely mind it when he accidentally swallowed it and she had to wipe away tears in the corners of her eyes and her cheeks were flustered and everyone was staring at them. He so didn't mind— it was worth it.

…

He finds her humming a song to herself by her locker and he covers her eyes with his hands. "Guess who?"

"Mhm.. Mr. Shuester, I told you not to sneak up to me like that anymore," she exclaims and he chuckles. "Very funny."

She bends her knees, making a little mock bow before smiling, "Why thank you. I thought so, too."

"We should hang out sometime," he blurts out and her smile widens. "We hang out, Jake, remember? I teach you about formulas and quadratic equations and you repay me by telling me lame stories about _the walking dead_ and your theories on the apocalypse," she jokes, poking him in the chest teasingly and he grins.

"No, I mean.. No math. No lame stories. Just us.. Hanging out."

She bites her lip (and man, if she doesn't stop doing that he's going to need to take daily cold showers), "Sure, I'd like that."

…

They watch a movie and he learns that she wants to become a singer, that she loves dogs and books and her mom and that one time during middle school she had a phase in which she refused to wear anything that wasn't pink. (He also learns she isn't _as_ religious as he thought. She's allowed to date so that's definitely not the worst case scenario in which she wore a chastity belt.)

"I came to school dressed as Mega Stud once," he told her and she tried keeping a straight face, nodding and pressing her lips together. She tried, because a moment later she was laughing the loudest he'd ever heard her laugh. "No, seriously. We had this superhero day and my mom insisted on sowing together this entire suit, including a cape, which was pretty cool."

"LA schools are so weird."

"This school uses cold drinks as a main weapon to bully kids."

"Got me there," her smile slowly fades as she realizes how close their faces are.

"So, Marley.. I really like hanging out with you. Do you like hanging out with me?" His eyes flicker towards her lips and she slowly nods her head, her eyes fixed on his mouth.

He's leans in and he thanks the fucking angels in heaven above (or whatever) he's going to be kissing Marley Rose in a matter of seconds— "Uncle Jake, uncle Jake, uncle Jake!"

Or not.

He turns away from Marley. He's a little annoyed (more like fucking irritated) but it's Jayden and Jayden is Jayden and he can't possibly be mad at Jayden. "What is it Jay?"

"I saw a squirrel outside and daddy told me it ate nuts and mommy told me daddy used to look just like that and it was so _pretty_! I named him Thomas, the tank engine. He's my favorite," the little boy rambled as Jake pulled him into his lap.

"That's awesome, Jay. This is Marley," he looked over at Marley, who was looking slightly flustered but happy nonetheless. "Marley, this is Jayden."

"Hi, are you Jake's girlfriend? Because he talks about you a lot, and mommy told me you're his girlfriend. Are you guys going to get married? Can I throw around the flowers this time? Aunt Rachel wouldn't let me. I had to carry the stupid rings. She got mad at me when I lost them and called me a really mean word. Mommy told me it was because of the stress of the baby or something but it was mean. If you guys get a baby can I hold it?" His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks excitedly and he was speaking so fast Jake couldn't even stop him.

"Slow down, buddy. Me and Marley aren't getting married or having a baby," Jake laughed, his cheeks slightly turning red. He didn't dare looking over at Marley. Commitment wasn't really his thing you see, and even though for her he'd like to try— marriage and babies? So not relevant right now. So not relevant ever.

"But when you do, can I hold it and dress it up? Because remember when I asked to hold aunt Rachel's baby and she told me I couldn't because I was too small? Well, I'm really big now so I can handle it," he said proudly, flashing Marley his pearly whites, although he lacked quite a few already.

"Oh, so you're a big boy?" Marley pretended to be shocked and he nodded his head furiously. "Yes, so Marley? I'd really like you to have a baby that's a boy with Jake so I can have someone to play with. Girls are icky and Jake's always busy."

"You want one right _now_?" She laughed, running a hand over Jayden's curly blond hair and he clapped his hand excitedly. "Yes! Can we Jake, can we?" He can't help but imagine a little Marley running around though, a little tiny beautiful perfect her. He considers he's going fucking mental for a moment.

"Not right now, but maybe mommy and daddy will have one. Go bother them," he took Jayden off his lap, who seemed to over think the idea for a second. "Fine, but when the baby comes you _have_ to tell me!" He warns them before smiling brightly over at Marley. He suddenly turns shy, remembering the manners his parents (mainly his mother) taught him, "It was really nice to meet you, Marley."

"It was nice to meet you, too, Jayden," she nods her head at him before he rushes off back to his parents giggling.

"I'm sorry," Jake apologizes as he runs a hand over his head. "He's a handful."

"It's okay, he's really cute," she bites the inside of her cheek, trying to pretend there's something really interesting on the floor. He puts his hand next to hers and slowly moves it closer, until their fingers are touching. He's never fucking been this nervous around anyone before, especially not a girl but he's slowly starting to realize Marley's not just any girl— she makes him do funny things.

She slowly turns her head to look at him, a teasing smile on her face as she intertwines their fingers, "So you talk about me a lot, huh?"

"Maybe," he shrugs, blurting out, "I just like talking about things that make me happy."

"I make you happy?" She asks, timidly.

"No, math does," he teases her and she nudges him with her elbow. He squeezes her hand, "I do, really like you a lot, Marley."

"Me too," she agrees, her tongue dips out her mouth to wet her lips slowly and he leans once again. His hand lands on her cheek and her fingers wrap around his wrist as their lips connect.

Her lips are soft and perfect and everything he ever wanted and he feels this twinge at his heart and— she's just perfect, okay?

…

"Jake, I'm sitting right here," she exclaims, not caring they're at a public restaurant— it was Breadstix (not that classy really, she heard there'd been a gang fight once), but still.

"What?" he hisses back annoyed, in response because what the fuck's was wrong now?

He knew kissing made everything more difficult. When him and Marley were just friends it was never this difficult. Sure, it wasn't easy, but kissing? That just complicated everything by ten. Holding hands in public spaces and when they were alone, her fingers dancing absentmindedly over his skin when they watched a movie, kissing down his neck when they were at the bleachers, making him feel things and shit, slowly driving him crazy with that smile? Fucking bad news.

"Maybe if I dye my hair blonde and get a boobjob you'll listen to me the first time I ask you something," she states firmly, stabbing her fork into her salad as she leans back and crosses her arms.

"I was just smiling at her, _Jesus Christ_, Marley! That's Kitty, we have geometry together," he defends himself because sure Kitty's got a nice body and she's totally smokin' and all and he's heard a lot of _good_ stories about her in the locker room but he's kind of dating Marley now, isn't he? And Marley, she's.. Marley. And he's Jake. They're _Marley and Jake_. She gets that they don't need a label to make sure he doesn't screw her over, right?

"Sure, and the other night when I was helping Ryder with his homework and you basically threatened to kill him? Wasn't I _just_ helping him?" She challenges him and he sees that look in her eyes, the one she gets when she's hurt— when he knows he should up but he can't (because he's an asshole with a huge temper).

"So it's about _that_ now?"

"No," she exclaims aggravated as she throws her napkin onto the table. People are starting to stare so she lowers her voice slightly. "It's about the fact I don't even get hang out with a friend but you get to check out and _smile_ at a girl that's obviously out to get me!"

He bites back, "I don't get what the big deal is, we're not even together." Yet. He forgets to add yet.

"You're a jerk," she huffs as she takes the napkin off her lap and throws it onto the table, getting ready to leave. He gets up and grabs her wrist, "Marley.. I didn't mean it like.. that."

"That's funny, because it sounded exactly the same."

"Marley.." He tries but she cuts him off. "You know, I like hanging out with you, Jake. You. My friend, Jake. My _best_ friend. Not this.. This cocky, mean, insensitive womanizer version of you. It makes me wish I'd never kissed you."

"I.." He starts but he's can't even think of any words to tell her she's wrong, because she's not. He's all of those thing and he doesn't know why he lets fear get to him. But he's so fucking afraid she'll realize he's just as worthless as the other fucking members of Maroon 5 one day, and he just wants to make sure he doesn't get hurt in the process.

She shakes her head at him before she leaves and he's too much of a fuck up to go after her and she's been the only girl to put up with him ever— so what is he supposed to think off her leaving him like everyone else?

…

She opens her locker, to find a note that says '_meet me tonight_' and she almost rolls her eyes at the predictability. She knows he's watching her so she crumples it, just to bother him. Jake can be so sweet and sensitive one moment and the other one he's basically tearing out her heart and stomping on it. It's frustrating.

She does go to the bleachers that night though, because she can't possibly resist him. Something he seems to know quite well.

They lay down on the field and she tells him about a few constellations her father taught her. She's not the kind of person that stays mad forever, and it's only been a few days but she can't be mean to him. She can't ignore him. She can't not tell him about her day. She can't not disregard the butterflies in her stomach whenever he looks at her.

His fingers keep reaching closer and closer to her until they wrap around hers. She's not stupid, she can feel her defense crumble by the seconds and he hasn't even opened his mouth to say anything besides '_hey_' yet. She refuses to look at him, because if she does she might kiss him. And if she kisses him, he has her right back in his trap and she's bound to get hurt again.

"Marley?" He asks her while she's in the middle of pointing out Orion.

She turns her head to look at him and she can feel his palms get sweaty. She never makes anyone nervous, especially not guys like Jake Puckerman. All this time she thought she was just going to be another girl on his long list of names and here he was, Jake. Sweaty palms, shifting eyes and nervous voice.

"I kind of want you to be my girlfriend," he manages to get out because he doesn't do commitment, he doesn't go any further than '_casually dating_', he doesn't ask pretty girls if they want to be with him.

"Kind of?" He turns his head to look at her this time, but when he notices her smile (the kind of smile that makes his lips itch to kiss her), he breaks out into a grin himself.

"A lot." Her fingers unwrap themselves from his as she sits up, pulling up her knees as she bites down onto her bottom lip.

"_Maybe_."

"Maybe?" He raises his eyebrows as he sits up himself. She smiles teasingly as she gets up slowly, her eyes remaining locked on his. "I'll consider it."

"Are you being for real right now?" He leans his elbow on his knee and she pushes him slightly, whispering, "Catch me."

She runs off and it takes him a moment to register what just happened before he gets up and chases after her. She laughs and looks over her shoulder— beaming , hair flowing in the wind, her baby blue eyes sparkling in the moonlight— and she's never looked more beautiful to him than in that moment.

He finally gets to her, wrapping his arms around her waist tightly, lifting her off the ground slightly. She squeals, pressing her fingers into his shoulders before leaning down and kissing him.

"Fine, I'll be your girlfriend," she mocks a sigh and he puts her down, but he doesn't let go off her (and he can't help but wonder if he'll ever will).

"Wow, babe, the enthusiasm is killing me," he retorts sarcastically and she stands on her tiptoes connecting her lips to his. His hands squeeze her sides and her hands run over his chest towards the back of his neck. He really likes kissing her. He really, really likes Marley.

…

Being with Marley is kind of easy. It's not like he doesn't want to try hard to make it work but she has this graceful, sneaky quality that just makes it so easy for him not to stare at other girls anymore or to not yell at every little single frustration or to not constantly unconsciously be in fear of losing her (because she makes it pretty clear she's not leaving).

His family likes her, too. Quinn has taken her shopping twice, Puck keep sending him these obvious winks and thumbs up whenever she's around and Jayden just adores her.

Which is good but it isn't like he had expected anything less. Marley _is_ special, and she _is_ different and she kind of makes him want to be a better person— which at first he didn't really like.

She helps him pick out a school (who cares about college? About the future? For all he knew he'd be dead tomorrow), she makes sure he doesn't get in trouble (he keeps hearing her voice in his head, telling him '_that's a bad idea, Jake_' which is really annoying) and the other day he was nice to Sam because Marley convinced him he was a great guy (he really wasn't that bad actually, he played guitar, too).

See, he didn't really care about the changing part that much, he knew he'd never turn into the good, innocent, romantic guy she deserved— it was too late for that— but he was really trying to be the best version of himself when he was around her (even if _she_ was the best part of him).

Her family is much different from his. Their dinners are quiet and reserved and fucking boring if you ask him— but he had managed to make a good impression up until now. (Besides the fact he got constant glares from her father whenever he dared to touch her hand or made a joke a little too much out of his comfort zone).

He was Jake Puckerman though, he could handle it.

…

He goes to the auditorium to pick her up from Glee club one time, but he's early and he nearly loses his mind. She's singing some song about _being titanium _or some shit and he's pretty sure he's never heard anything so _magical_.

He doesn't get why she's so insecure all the time. She's so perfect. Anyone can see it, even her fellow Glee club members are gawking at her all the time, trying to do what she does, trying to be as amazing as her— but they never will be. She's one of a kind and the way she moves so effortlessly on that stage, throws out the notes like she's sung the song a thousand time, the way she smiles and twirls and _radiates_... He wishes he could see her like this all the time. This happy. (Most of all, he wishes he was the one that made her _that_ fucking happy.)

They finish the song and he leans against the door opening, way in the back until she finally spots him, her eyes lightening up as she rushes over to him. "What did you think?" She asks him, almost shyly and he shrugs idly, "What do you think, Marley?"

She blinks a few times, her eyes landing on her shoes. Sam passes them, gives him a nod but he doesn't even register it. He grins, "You were _awesome_, babe."

She breaks out into a beam as she leans over to hug him, tightly. He squeezes her waist as he whispers, "You're way too good for this place, Marley."

She ignores his statement as they start walking down the hallways, to his truck.

"Why don't you join? I know you love dancing," she nudges him with her elbow, a teasing smile on her lips, "And you can sing. I've heard you before."

"Nah, it's too late for that," he tells her as he changes the subject, "So, do you want to watch Pitch Perfect _again_ or are you finally over it?"

"Never," she mocks a gasp before a laugh bubbles up her throat and she loops her arm through his, connecting their fingers. "Are you over the Avengers?"

"Never," he smirks and she squeezes his bicep with her other hand, moving down to his wrist to wrap her fingers around it.

All he knows is that Marley's got something special about her and he's going to come to Glee club rehearsals early more often.

...

"Okay, so remember all of our numbers are on the fridge—"

"They're on my phone too," Jake cuts her off but Quinn only glares at him and Marley stifles a laugh, sitting on the stool behind the kitchen island.

"Do not interrupt me while I talk, Jake Puckerman," she balls her fists, fire in her eyes and for a moment there, he's scared shitless.

"Calm down, queen bee," Puck chuckles, as he grabs her hand pulling her towards the door. "You can castrate him later, but if we don't leave now we'll miss our _reservation_."

She stops one more time at the door, pointing a finger at him as Puck holds up her coat and she slips one arm in the sleeve, "No funny business." Her eyes land on Marley, who blushes furiously. Jake smirks as he raises his hand and waves at her mockingly as Puck drags her towards the front door.

Jayden runs up to them, hugging Quinn around the waist as she bends down to kiss his head, her eyes immediately softening. She's such a fucking sap. Puck ruffles his hair before pounding his fist against the little guy's. Jayden runs back to the TV as fast as he can and Quinn sends him one more warning glance as Puck smirks, "We'll be back at eleven.. Maybe later." He winks and Quinn colors red as she elbows her husband in the ribs.

"Bye Marley," she says sweetly before turning to other Puckerman in her life, "I've got eyes everywhere, Jake. Everywhere."

He snickers and Puck finally manages to pull her away. With a sigh, Jake turns to Marley who offers him a smile before letting out a deep breath herself. "I love her but she's crazy."

"I know," Jake agrees as he helps her off the stool and twirls her around. She laughs at his antics as he continues, "Puck tells me she used to have short pink hair and was like batshit crazy after Beth was born, my other niece. She's almost just as old as me which is kind of freaky but... She's all right."

"Isn't that the blonde cheerleader who's mom is a history teacher at our school?" Marley frowns a little as she tries to recall her name. She grimaces jokingly, "Beth... Cocoman?"

"Corcoran," he laughs as he pulls her towards his chest and wraps his arms around her. She locks her hands behind his back as she looks up at him. He puts a hand on her cheek, caressing her cheek with the pad of his thumb. Her smile widens in response and he leans down, their lips inches apart.

"You're such a tease," she whispers, her eyes not leaving his. "Oh, that's right, I forgot. _I'm_ the one who's wearing the shortest skirt I own," he replies, smirking and she blushes (seriously, she does it so often he's used to it by now) before she reaches up and grabs him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him down and kissing him.

"Wow," he says pulling away, before he jabs her in the stomach playfully, "_Feisty_, baby."

She slaps his chest before standing on her tiptoes and kissing him again. Her tongue slips in his mouth and her hands are on his chest, grabbing the fabric of his shirt softly and he just has this feeling now (_always_) whenever he's around her— like he just wants to hang out with her forever.

"Gross, you guys!" They pull away to find a horrified looking Jayden, his arms crossed and his brow furrowed.

It takes him two cans of ice cream, a bowl of popcorn and a promise to go to the zoo ("With Marley because she's nice and pretty and if I go with you they'll keep you there because you look like a monkey." "_Ha-ha_, you're such a little punk." "He's right, Jake. You better wear a cap or something.") to convince him to not tell his bitchlet mom he basically caught them slowly moving towards second base.

They watch some dumb movie about a bunch of animals on some island and Jayden, the biggest, smallest cockblock around, sits in between them the entire time, rambling on about every little detail (he doesn't know who he got that from because Puck and Quinn both aren't that talkative— maybe his aunt Rachel). After a whole night of painfully no touching Marley and shameless bribery by a five year old, he considers Jayden's bedtime is a gift from God himself.

"I can't sleep," Jayden tells them after they brushed his teeth and managed to pull on his pajamas, ("No, I want the one with the bananas from Auntie Tana!" "But aren't these stars pretty though?" "Noooo, I'm still mad at Aunt Rachel for not trusting me with her second baby! Her second baby, Jake. I really wanted to hold it. I wouldn't have dropped it, you know that, right?" "No, sweetie, we know you wouldn't have, you're a big boy.") his arms crossed as he leans his head against his headboard.

"Do we need to read you a story?" Jake offers, already looking around for a story book. He opens a few drawers but Jayden makes him stop, "No! I'm not a baby any more, Jake. Mommy and daddy _always_ sing me a song when I can't sleep."

Oh, so that's where all the censored rock songs and over-the-top religious tunes at three a.m. were coming from. It explained a lot of bags under the eyes, weirdly embarrassed looks whenever he asked about it and Jayden's outstanding knowledge of eighties rock songs.

"Yeah, but mommy and daddy are two big, crazy a—" Jake mumbles but Marley elbows him in his side, hard. He rubs the sore spot, giving her an incredulous look. She spots the same one though so he guesses it's not of much use.

"We'll sing you a song, okay?" Marley tells him, "But you have to go to sleep otherwise you won't be strong and healthy tomorrow." She pats his stomach softly after she tucks him, running a hand through his blonde curls. She sits down on the side of the bed and he sits down next to her, leaning backwards slightly so he can see Jayden, still.

"_Heart beats, fast. Colors and promises, how to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall?_" She starts and he swears to God, he might have a heart attack— his heart is beating _that_ fast.

He knows this song, she wouldn't stop listening to it after they watch that lame vampire movie she loves so much. He watches Jayden yawn and almost laughs, because it's so the complete opposite from how he feels when he listens to Marley. Alive and awake.

"_Time stands still, beauty in all she is. I will be brave, I will not let anything take away what's standing in front of me_," he sings this time and she visibly tenses. He puts his hand on her hip though, drawing small circles with his thumb, and she seems to relax a little.

"_I have loved you for a thousand years and I'll love you for a thousand years more_," they harmonize the final lines of the song and Jayden's eyes slowly droop close.

"Goodnight," Marley whispers, a smile on her face.

"Mommy.. Daddy.. Better," Jayden mumbles before finally drifting off to sleep. Jake stifles a laugh and Marley shushes him, putting a finger to her lips before taking his hand and pulling him out the room.

He pushes her against the door as soon as she closes it though, because how could he ever resist her? "You're amazing," he tells her and she raises her eyebrows, playing with the open zipper of his hoodie. "So are you."

"I know, but you're better," he takes her hand off his zipper and intertwines their fingers, squeezing her hand softly. She sways their hands slightly, looking down at them and so does he. He looks at the contrast of their skin and it strikes him how different they really are. They're like fire and rain, the sun and the moon, the best and the worst.

"No, I'm not. You're really talented, Jake," her eyes turn serious and she acts like he just offended her or some shit.

He leans down a pecks her lips, "You're much, much more talented, baby." She's about to protest again when he leans down and captures her lips in another kiss, but this time it lasts longer.

"Ugh, you drive me crazy," she leans her head back on the door, smiling at him as she reaches out fondle his cheek, like she just wanted to touch him _because_.

"I know I do," he smirks, leaning down to kiss her again, and again, and again because she's absolutely the only person in his entire life that shines bright enough for the both of them, that lifts his spirits even when he doesn't want them to be lifted, that accepts every little thing about him and doesn't ever get fed up with him. (And he doesn't think he'll ever, ever get fed up with her.)

"I love you," she whispers, her eyes squeezed closed as her forehead leans against his— like she's afraid to see rejection in his eyes.

She loves him though. She loves _him_. And he doesn't know if what he feels for her is love, because he simply doesn't know what makes love love. He wants to laugh whenever she pretends to be mad at him, and when she kisses him he feels it from head to toe, and every lyric, every dance he makes up in his mind is about her and fuck man, he wants to be with her _always_. That might be love, he isn't sure. He hasn't ever felt like this for anyone else, and she's so beautiful and he wants to hold her in his arms and tell her that over and over again and he wants to see her smile everyday of his life.

"I love you, too," he connects their lips again before subtly scooping her up in his arms, and she giggles as he carries her to his room.

They eat cabbage patch kids and watch silly youtube videos of cats and turtles and cats _and_ turtles and talk about useless shit the entire night, but he's never felt so— at home.

So, yeah, he loves her. And not love that has always been there like '_thanks mom for always taking care of me_' or people you have to love no matter what like Quinn or that one girl from a reality show that gets on your nerves because she's so stupid but she's so funny she'll always be your favorite and it isn't like he loves his guitar or Aerosmith either. He loves her because he can, because he wants to, because she's Marley. He's in love with her, and he doesn't know how not to be.

…

She mentions college a lot but she never mentions where she's going, or what her plans are, always avoids to name her dreams, afraid they might crash and burn before they'd even have time to start. He thinks the distance's a big part of it, too. He knows she wants to be on a stage, and the place where that is most likely to happen is in Los Angeles.

She just convinced him to audition for Juilliard, which is all the way in fucking New York. The shortest route from Los Angeles to New York is two-thousand-seven-hundred-and-seventy-five miles. He fucking spent an entire night on Google trying to find way to get from place A, Juillard— something he wants, something that makes him happy, his dream— to place B, Marley— his girlfriend, his best friend, someone that for the first time in years has him smiling the entire day, just by the thought of her. Not only was it fucking expensive (no way he could afford _that_ and an elite school) to fly or drive there but it was two-thousand-seven-hundred-and-seventy-five miles apart.

He really doesn't know what the fuck he's going to do anymore.

…

Sam invites them to some '_final party before finals_' party (he knows it's just some bullshit excuse for a party, it always is) with all the football guys and cheerleaders. He isn't _exactly_ friends with any of them, but Marley really wants to go and if there's free booze he figures it couldn't really hurt, right? (Unless he ends up in a fight again.)

By the end of the night he has drunk _too_ much though, and Marley's almost falling over and he can't even see or think straight. She shushes him as they stumble up his stairs in the middle of the night, but she lets out a huge laugh when they enter his room, so loud he has to cover her mouth because otherwise they'll end up grounded for life.

Her hands run over his chest under his shirt soon enough though and she kisses him— sloppy and quick, not like she usually does, slow and longing— and before he knows it they're both down to their underwear.

"Marley, no," he tells her lazily as she reaches for his boxers. Because fuck man, he's so drunk and she's so drunk and she'll end up regretting it or only half remembering it and it's not worth it.

"Please," she whispers in his ears, her hand actually running over his boxers now and he almost chokes as she starts kissing his neck. "Marley.." His voice trails off, but she seems to know he's losing his defenses because she starts running a finger over his chest, slowly going downwards and fuck man. Why is she doing this? He knew that damn party was a bad idea.

"Let's just do it, Jake," she tells him pulling away. Her hair is slightly tousled and her bra strap is hanging down her shoulder and her lips are red and swollen— and he's a guy and he loves her and she's so hot and he isn't going to sit here and pretend like he _hasn't_ wanted this from day one.

So he kisses her and she seems to be so happy he does but the next morning when there's no Marley sleeping beside him and he feels like he might be dying because of this huge hangover and there's no fucking Marley and he remembers last night— he might actually die because she probably hates him.

He'd hate himself if he was her. He has no self control whatsoever. He kicks against his desk out of anger and his laptop ends up on the floor, the screen cracked and his foot ends up bruised but it's nothing compared to the way his heart is beating now— like it's about to burst out of his chest and into a pool of acid.

Fuck, he does hate himself.

…

He doesn't see her for a week. She doesn't pick up her phone, or answers her texts and emails, or replies to his messages on Facebook and one time when he's really desperate and decides to knock on her front door— her fucking dad opens and tells him to get lost, that he _made his baby cry_.

He ends up breaking two knuckles from punching the wall _next_ to the front door and Quinn tells him he's being an idiot, that he needs to give her some time. Well fuck time, he wants to see her, wants to tell her he's so sorry, wants to take everything back.

Puck is the one who ends up luring Marley to their house though (without Quinn's permission), telling her some lame story about him supposedly crying himself to sleep every night. They leave to visit Quinn's mom in Chicago, hence the no permission slip from Quinn deal.

Marley doesn't say anything to him though, not like she normally does but he expected it all. He had thought about seeing her after that particular night since he woke up the following day, he had mapped out every possible situation.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he tells her eventually as they sit on the couch, inches apart but it feels like miles.

Tears spring from the corners of her eyes and he hates himself so much for making her cry. "I was drunk and I should've stopped you and I shouldn't have—"

She starts shaking her head though, tears rolling down her cheeks, "It's okay, Jake, really. It's not your fault, I was basically forcing myself onto you."

School's over soon enough and he's going to New York and she just— she felt him slipping away and then she thought that maybe if she gave him what he wanted, he'd either stay and they'd be together or he'd leave and he could follow his dreams. Free of her. Free of commitment, of an anchor to his past.

She shrugs a little, and he grasps both of her hands in his. He can see it in her eyes that she isn't happy, that she is just pretending, that for the first time— she isn't being honest to him. He can see— _feel_ the doubt she's feeling and it's killing him.

He cups her cheeks and kisses her salty lips because why does she still of herself like this? Why does she still think for a second that she isn't his first choice above everything? Because she so is, and that shit fucking scares him and the fact that they're going to be apart for a long time fucking scares him, too but he wants to make it work, he wants it to work, it _has_ to work.

"I love you," he convinces her, but his head is fucking exploding with thoughts and feeling and shit and he isn't one of those guys that pops out a poetic, swooning, romantic ramble of words. He just knows the truth, and it's simple and it's blunt but he can't think of any other way to tell her. "And even though we'll be apart soon, we'll still be together, okay?" He wipes her tears with his thumbs and she nods her head, burying her head in his shoulder.

"Can I show you something?" She nods and he takes her hand, leading her upstairs to his room.

He opens his door to reveal his room all cleaned up and tidy, candles and rose petals everywhere and maybe he opened one of Quinn's girly magazines for this. She gasps a little though, a squeezes his hand."There's no pressure, but I just thought that maybe we could forget your real first time and maybe have a second, better first time. I swear to God I didn't do this with the intention that we'd, you know, but I just wanted to find a way to show I'm really sorry and I— I— we can totally watch a movie, if you want?"

He's rambling and he's so fucking stupid and he just screwed up everything again.

"You did all of this for me?" She asks, turning her head to him and he swears she's going to cry again.

He nods his head, because doesn't she know he'd do _anything_ for her. She smiles, so brightly, so genuine and for fuck sake's when she kisses him he swears he can feels his hands shake. (He won't ever admit it though. He's a guy. A guy whose kissed many girls, even slept with some, he _doesn't_ get fucking nervous.)

He asks her about a thousand times if she's sure and he's so nervous he knocks over the lamp of his bedside table and this new smile she smiles, one he hasn't seen before, is his new favorite smile and when she moans his name he swears he feels like floating up to heaven. Overall, he likes this first time so much better. Mainly because he remembers the next morning and he gets to wake-up to her face and she trails her fingers over his chest and he gets to do it all over again.

…

He hooks his finger around her necklace, running his thumb over the cross. He's leaning on his elbow and she's staring up at the stars. "Shouldn't you have waited?"

"What?" she asks him absentmindedly as she plays with the fabric of her shirt.

"Shouldn't you have waited? I mean— You're the reverend's daughter and shit," he lets go of the cross, his fingers picking at the grass instead.

"And you ask me this now?" She raises her eyebrows teasingly as she sits up, leaning back on her hands.

He doesn't look at her, decides to count the amount of blades of grass instead. "I know how important it is to you."

She sighs, picking at the grass herself, "It's important to my mom and my dad and I love them and I want to make them happy— but I don't believe there's a God. When I look around and all I see is pain and sadness and miserableness.. How could I?" She's that good of a person, and that right there sums up why she is so amazing. She spends hours in church and with a bible and has a cross hanging around her neck that basically screams '_I'm a Christian_' but not for herself, but because it's important to her family.

"I don't regret it, Jake, if that's what you're worried about," she grabs his chin and makes him face her, because she loves him and only him and she could never regret anything done out of love.

He offers her a smile and she scoots closer to him, hooking her arm through his as she starts drawing patterns on his arm and leans her head on his shoulder. They both look at the stars for a while before a laugh bubbles up her throat out of nowhere.

"What?" He asks her, slightly skeptical and she beams, "If we ever marry I can't become a Jew though, I think my dad would probably commit suicide."

He mocks shock, bumping his shoulder into hers, "Oh, but Marley, that's a _sin_."

…

Summer's almost over but the weather in Lima is still hot and clammy but with a lot of rain. It's fucking ridiculous.

They sit on the rear bed of his pickup truck, their legs dangling of the end. They don't really talk, they ever really talk about what's going to happen when their basically a country apart. (Because talking makes it real, makes it present, makes it touchable.)

"How does that song go again?" She starts humming a tune and he frowns, not recognizing it, "_If I could fall into the sky, do you think_..." Her voice turns quieter and she hums along, not knowing the words, before she sings louder again, "_'Cause you know I would walk a thousand miles, if I could just see you tonight_."

"That was so cheesy," he smirks raising his eyebrows and she bumps her shoulder into his, not able to wipe the smile of her face, "You're a jerk, I was trying to be romantic."

He laughs, fixing his eyes on hers, trying to remember every little feature of this happy face of hers, something he could think off at night when he wouldn't be able to hold her anymore, only every now and then.

"Babe, that was a total overkill."

"Hey!" She pretends to be offended, scrunching up her nose a little, "Next time I'll sing _hey there, Delilah_, see if you like that, huh?"

His face softens and he puts his arm around her shoulders, pulling her into his chest. "We'll get through this, we will and then when you're on the radio and I'm choreographing some big ass show somewhere in Europe or some shit everyone will know we proved them wrong and long distance does work."

She nods her head, placing a kiss on his jaw before lowering his arm to her waist, grabbing a hold of his hand. He burst out in laughter and later so does she, too after she quietly starts singing again.

"_Hey there, Delilah, what's it like in New York city? I'm a thousand miles away, girl but tonight you look so pretty_.."

…

"_you belong with me, i belong with you, you're my sweetheart._"

…

( A/N I don't even know what this is guys. I just started writing about Jake and Marley and this happened. I wasn't planning on putting in Marley being religious (it's not even that significant) it's just something that slipped in. This is a three shot. I hope it was any good because I'm so fucking nervous about posting this. Thank you for reading, hope you leave a review! This was senior year: college is up next. Sorry I'm not sorry for all the Quick, they're my otp. Also, I checked for any errors twice but I'm only an idiot so there might be some left in there. Don't hate me because you ain't me. The next part(s) will be uploaded within a week or two. Thank you again! The songs I do not own, in order: Ho hey by the Lumineers, A thousand years by Christina Perri, A thousand miles by Vanessa Carlton and Hey there, Delilah by the Plain White T's.)


	2. never love me not

**{Part two}**

...

"_even the seasons change but our love still stays the same._"

…

New York get's old fast.

When he first got here he loved it. The people they lived, not quite like the way they did in Lima, or even in Los Angeles. The buildings were taller, the skies were bluer, the sun shined brighter…

But what could he do with buildings? Skies? A sun? Nothing. Not alone at least. He missed his family He missed Puck and his mom and Jayden and Quinn and Marley. He really missed Marley. He just felt all by himself in a big city where people lived, but failed to care.

His first semester he barely sees her. They try to skype each week, at least, but last minute dance rehearsals and meetings with important record producers at karaoke bars and dates with (mainly her) friends come in between soon enough. He can't help but feel she's better at this, at making friends and fitting in and letting go.

Days, turn into weeks and it's Christmas before he knows it. Snow is sticking to the ground and the wind has turned so cold and sharp that sometimes he avoids going out.

They all come visit him though. Puck and Quinn and Jayden. (Not Marley. Marley's all the way across the country, trying to make a career. Marley's spending time with other people during Christmas. Marley's slowly forgetting about him.) He doesn't close the door for a few moments after Quinn enters, carrying Jayden, because a small part off him hopes he'll see his girlfriend enter after her.

It's ridiculous, he knows. He knows he shouldn't expect her to be here when he couldn't even go see her either. But fuck, life in New York was expensive and he was all alone in his dorm room and sometimes he'd rather be lonely on his room then go see her and realize everything has changed and that he's losing her. So he doesn't save up any money. (He keeps telling her he needs it for dancing supplies and he sees the disappointment in her eyes but as soon as he starts asking her about her classes at UCLA and how the journey of getting discovered is going she's all smiles and laughs so he figures she doesn't care that much.)

And he feels like a dick because wasn't he the one convincing Marley they'd get through this? And now after barely two, or three months (he lost track) he was already half giving up before even trying. He tells himself it's all right, because that's what he did before her.

She texts him daily though, asks him which presents he got for Hanukkah and telling him she envies him because of the snow and carelessly throwing around how much she loves him. And she just fucking does that, making him miss her even more.

"Cleaning this place certainly would be better for your health," Quinn scrunches her nose as she kicks away one of his boxers that's lying on the floor.

"Well hello to you, too, Quinn." He rolls his eyes as he leans down to hug Jayden, who immediately starts telling him what he missed while he was away. Puck makes some stupid joke about a Ms. Pillsbury or something and he doesn't know who the fuck that is but she laughs and it's like he wants that, you know? He wants to make stupid jokes with Marley about people no one remembers, and wants to make her laugh and he wants to do so much more.

"So, how are your classes going, prima donna?" Puck smirks as he sits down on the bed and he's being a dick but at least he's not complaining about the mess.

"They're tiring but it's what I _love_," he emphases, raising his eyebrows because people might call him offensive fucking names because of what he does, but he will never ever apologize for doing or loving something he loves. (Just like he'll never apologize for loving Marley even though people continuously tell him they're wrong for each other.)

He watches Quinn carefully wipe all of his clothes off his desk chair and sit down, straightening her skirt with a disgusted look on her face. She kicks against an empty coke can with her foot, shaking her head to herself.

"Mommy, your mouth is doing that weird thing again!" Jayden giggles and he can't help but smile because Quinn's disapproving duck face is basically one of the things he never realized he missed so much until he got to see it again.

"Thank God we have reservations at the Four Seasons," she mutters and she's a stuck up bitch but he's happy because he did miss his family and having them here makes him happy. So yeah, he's happy. He's allowed to be happy even if Marley isn't the cause, right?

"So, Bella the ballerina, did they give you the role of the swan queen yet, because _that_ is something I'd love to see."

…

He finally gets to see her again during winter break. It's fucking February though and he hasn't seen her since August. Fucking August, _last_ year. They're in a different year now.

He knocks on the door of her dorm and she opens and he doesn't think he's ever hugged anyone this tightly before. It's then he realizes all those months of only phone calls cut short because of essay's due the next day and Skype sessions with horrible internet connections and quick texts in between classes telling her how much he hates all the stuck up elite dancers on this school were worth it. Because he still has her and he still gets to hug her even if it isn't every day.

He buries his face in her hair, because he can and she feels even tinier in his arms then he remembers and she smells even nicer and her smiles even brighter than he could recall.

They spend most of the time in her room and he doesn't even bother to ask where her roommate is _this_ time because he fucking gets to kiss her and touch her and make her moan his name into his neck and he gets to smile for entire days again so no, he doesn't care where her fucking roommate is.

She takes him to a small karaoke bar in Hollywood and she gets him a little bit drunk and makes him sing stupid songs that makes him fucking glad he knows nobody there and she reminds him once again why exactly he can feel it in his bones that she's going to be great one day.

"I really missed you," she whispers tiredly against his chest while they're watching some dumb sitcom about the seventies and presses her body closer to his, presses his fingers tighter between the tiny spaces separating her fingers and presses his lips against her head softly.

"Me too," he mumbles and he's so tired but he wants to spend more time with her but she's drawing circles on his stomach under his shirt with her fingers and it's so soothing and she's humming so quietly that soon his eyes droop closed.

He has to leave too soon and she almost cries but he won't let her, because this isn't goodbye. He'll see her in a couple of weeks.

Somehow she convinces him again that it's all worth it, and he promises himself he's going to try harder this time because she's worth fighting for and fucking distance isn't going to screw them up.

…

After his visit it's like things fall into place. It's like his mind just needed the reassurance that she _would_ be waiting for him and that he wasn't just wasting his time waiting around for her.

They make time for each other now, and if he has an early day the next day he doesn't hesitate to talk to her on the phone until three a.m. because she's Marley. He likes hearing her talk about everything and nothing much more than studying the history of East-European ballet in the early eighteen-hundreds. Marley was much better than his required classes.

"I miss your smile," he can basically hear the pout in her voice when she says it, one day when he's about to enter his dorm. He's tired from all his classes and he got asked to perform at the Spring formal in April and he's taking this modern dance class in which the teacher is a fucking pain in the ass, but he couldn't ignore her phone call.

"I miss your _smile_ and blue eyes and I miss running my hands over your smooth skin and your lips— God, I really miss those lips of yours," he smirks in response as she interrupts him, her tone warning but somehow begging all the while, "_Jake_."

"I'm sorry, babe. I just miss you," he chuckles and she lowers her voice, "I do, too, _so_ much— but you're lucky you're not on speaker because my parents are in the other room. They came to visit me."

"Of course I'm lucky, I have you, don't I?" He teases her and she narrows her eyes, forgetting he see her.

"Oh, but, Jake," she mocks him, "I'm the lucky one. I mean, with your smooth moves and annoying smirk and ever-growing collection of leather jackets and your tendency to be late. Let's not forget the fact you're totally broody one hundred percent of the time or your _glorious_ taste in music—" He cuts her off, sounding quite offended as he retorts.

"Hey, my taste in music is _awesome_."

"I basically call you a douche bag and that's what sets you off?" She asks him, obviously sounding as disbelieving as she can.

"Baby, no one insults my music because you're the music in my heart," he uses the voice he used to hear Puck use all the time on Quinn, all silky smooth and disgustingly sweet.

"Oh, wow, _no_," she shakes her head to herself, although she can't not smile at his behavior, "I think I just threw up a little."

"You know you love me."

"That's why I'm starting to doubt my sanity."

…

She comes to see him in the Spring formal and stays with him the entire Spring Break— which is fucking awesome if you ask him.

She hugs him as soon as she meets him backstage and he doesn't even notice Quinn and Puck because she's _here_, and he hasn't seen her for a while besides on a laptop screen (that didn't quite function for a hundred percent anymore after he spilt orange juice over it when Marley showed him a picture of her new bikini— or more like her in that bikini, posing like she was a fucking Victoria's secret angel and _fuck_— and it's the second computer he destroyed because of her).

"You were amazing!" She gushes, hugging him again before placing her lips on his. She doesn't even care he's all sweaty and shit which is totally awesome, too.

Puck clears his throat before Marley lets go of him and steps aside. Puck offers him a hand, patting him on his back before telling him, "You did a great job. I really admire the way you move so gracefully in those tights, dude. When are you getting your dick removed?"

Jake rolls his eyes before pushing him a little, "You cried during your wedding, asshole."

Quinn cuts her husband off before he can make one of his oh-so-witty replies and smiles at Jake, "You made me cry, and no one has been able to do that since this loser knocked me up while we were still in high school. Well done," she smirks, nodding towards Puck, who lets out a deep sigh, muttering something about '_letting shit go_' before she reaches over to hug him. She stops though, scrunching up her nose (he wonders if it's New York that makes her do that so often or just him), "Eww Jake, you reek."

"Thank you," he gives her a look before turning a bit more serious, "Thank you, really. The fact that you're all here while you hate ballet—"

"We don't _hate_ it," Marley interrupts him. She's hugging herself and her eyes are so honest and open and he really loves her, you know, for actually meaning the shit she says.

"I do," Puck exclaims, and Quinn steps down on his foot, glaring at him.

He shows Marley the Empire State Building and the Statue of Liberty and a bunch of other old buildings he knows she'll love because it's her first time in New York and he wants it to be so special she'll always want to come back. (Little does he know that everywhere he is, she'll go.)

"It's so beautiful," she gushes— the Subway sandwich on her lap long forgotten— as she breathes in the air of Central Park.

He chuckles, taking a bite of his sandwich as he nods his head all the while. She turns her head towards him and laughs as she uses her thumb to wipe some sweet union sauce from the side of his mouth.

He mutters a _thanks_ before taking another bite, because he's hungry and he hasn't even eaten breakfast because Marley insisted on going to the top of the Empire State Building before it got too busy.

"Thank you for taking me here, Jake."

"No problem, babe, I knew you'd love it here," he scrunches the left over wrapper up and puts it down next to him on the bench. She smiles, and it widens to probably ten times its size when he smiles back and she puts her hand on top of his, leaning her head on his shoulder.

"I love you," she tells him and it's just this thing now. She just says it whenever she wants and she just does it and makes it heart do funny jumps and he loves it.

"I love you too, Lee," he picks up her hand and places a kiss on it before they both enjoy the silence (besides the quiet chatter of other people and the sound of the big city around them).

"Marley?"

"Mhm?"

"Are you going to eat that?"

…

"We need to talk."

She texts him, a few weeks before summer, and for a moment there, he's scared shitless.

He calls her and she doesn't pick up and what is he supposed to expect? That night they skype and he's fucking relieved when she doesn't tell him they're done or some shit.

"Tell me," he leans closer to his laptop screen, because she keeps changing the damn subject and if she doesn't want to break-up with him, then what is going on? She's sitting on her bed, her hair up and one of his t-shirts (one of _his_ fucking t-shirts, it's weird but it kind of makes him feel proud) on as she fumbles with the strings on her shorts. She shrugs and he can see the smile she's trying to hide.

"I can't tell you, I was sworn to secrecy. If I do, I'd have to kill you."

"And how are you going to do that? You're going to strangle me through the screen?" He raises his eyebrows as he taps his finger on his desk impatiently.

A laugh bubbles up her throat and she even throws her head back and God, she makes his heart do weird things. When she's finally calmed down, she puts a few loose strands of hair behind her ears, "Okay, I'll tell you but you have to promise me not to tell anyone."

"Promise, hurry up."

"Wow, you're very impatient today, Jake."

She is fucking teasing him and normally he wouldn't went along but he'd like to know, very, very much.

"Marley."

"Yes, Jake?" She smiles, taking her bottom lip in between her teeth and even when he hates her he still loves her.

He just raises his eyebrows as he stares her down to the screen and she finally gives in, sighing.

"The other night a record producer approached me and offered me a record deal."

He almost knocks over his computer for the third time because of her and wishes he could hug her right now because that is fucking amazing.

She suddenly looks so crestfallen, so sad and he feels his stomach turn. "What's wrong? I thought that's what you wanted."

"It is, it's just.." She shakes her head to herself, shrugging as she lets out a deep breath, "He wants me to work on recording a demo this summer."

_Oh_.

"You mean, this summer as in the entire summer?" He swallows hard because they talked about summer so much. Finally being able to spend more time together than just a few days, a week at max. They would go swimming and they would babysit Jayden again and they would get ice cream and he would purposely let her push it into his face just to make her laugh.

She just nods and she's staring at her socks and he feels like fucking shit but he won't let her notice because this is all she ever wanted, all she ever dreamed of— long before she met him. He can't— he won't get in the way of that.

So he forces himself to smile, and mean it, because she deserves this and she's worked hard for this and this makes her happy and if he has to sacrifice one summer, he'd do it. "That's awesome, baby."

He tried hard enough because she finally breaks into a smile and tells him she loves him. (And he loves her so he's doing the right thing, right? He can't be selfish with her.)

A few days before summer she calls him though and all he hears is sobs and a strangled try at what he thinks is his name.

He finally gets her calm enough to tell him what happened, by telling her to _please stop crying, baby because I hate it when you cry_.

"They canceled the c-contract," she chokes on the last word and he can't tell she's doing everything she has not to burst out into tears again. "He said I wasn't sexy enough."

"Is he fucking blind?" It's the first thing that comes to mind and it's fucking true. She's hot as hell and she's sexy and beautiful and how could this guy ever reject her? Her voice was magic.

"Some other girl was willing to pose topless for her album cover and, and I told him—"

"That you have a boyfriend who will cut off his manhood if he asked you one more time?"

She laughs and he feels so relieved because she's laughing and probably smiling and that feels _so_ good.

"You're beautiful, Marley. And talented," he tells her, "And sexy. That guy is fucking dumb for letting you go."

"Thank you," she says softly, and she sniffs but he can hear the smile in her voice and that's all that matters.

He does get to spend the entire summer with her though, and he knows it's fucking selfish but he'd rather have him to herself than share her with the entire world.

…

During his second year at Juilliard they almost break-up.

It just escalates. It always escalates when they fight, but this time it's worse. It's like they're standing on the edge of a cliff and they're pushing themselves off.

"I was busy, Jake," she hisses as she presses the phone harder against her ear.

"_Right_," he bites back, "That explains the pictures of you on Facebook with Unique and that Asian chick having the time of your lives at some booze fest."

"Like I said, I was busy," she tells him, her voice cold and he knows she's just trying to hurt him and he shouldn't go down that path because when he loses his fucking temper, he hardly ever doesn't hurt anyone (physically, emotionally, whatever).

"So you were busy with that guy, too?" He huffs, glaring and he doesn't even remember she can't see him but he's holding his phone so tightly it might break and he's just so pissed off. He's never felt this jealous in his life before and she's making it worse by pretending she doesn't care (like being apart isn't worse enough already) and she's just playing it off like it's nothing. (Nothing, like what they have isn't even remotely more important than some lame college party with lame college guys.)

"Yeah," she snaps, her voice sarcastic, and she's so mad— mad because he's pissed off at something stupid, mad because he lives so far away, mad about everything. And frustrated, she is so frustrated. "He was the guy of my dreams, Jake."

"Well, great. I hope you had a great time fucking him," he spits before hanging up and throwing his phone onto his bed and he's trying so hard not to hit anything and he _hates_ her, he hates her so much.

"Maybe we should just break-up," she texts him in a frenzy, her fingers faster than her mind.

"Sounds good to me."

He could have any other girl. He's had offers, plenty offers— he just never really told her because he didn't want her to worry about nothing. (And now she's fucking rubbing some guy in his face that she met at a party. A party.) He could, and they could make him feel just as good as her. She wasn't special, she wasn't different— she was a bitch and just as different as the next girl. He's glad they're breaking up. He doesn't need her.

He has her fucking picture on his nightstand, on the background of his phone, on his desktop, her face was the first thing he fucking woke up to in the morning. Literally and figuratively. What more did she want?

Maybe for him not to say stupid shit. Just because he couldn't find the right words didn't mean he should use the wrong ones.

He tries to contact her various ways, but she doesn't respond.

"Sorry," he writes on her Facebook wall and she responds with an '_I love you_' and he tells her the same and it's fucking perfect because they didn't break up and at least now that loser knew she was taken.

They get like fifteen likes and Quinn's one of them and she comments, "_Lol, I love it when you're an ass and then turn all soft and cheesy. ;)_"

"Well, I loved it when we weren't friends on Facebook yet," he types as a response with a smile and Marley likes his comment and she liked his comment because she still likes him and she loves him and she doesn't hate him and they're together.

And later that year when she's kissing his nose because he just said something cute and he frowns and scrunches his nose because _he doesn't do cute_ and she laughs anyway he's _really_ fucking glad they didn't break-up because no one could ever make him feel like she does.

…

She spends Christmas with her family and he spends Hanukkah with his video games. His mom wasn't coming home this year again, and Puck was visiting Quinn's mom with her and Jayden. He hangs with a guy from his class one day and that's it. He didn't really have anyone else.

"Hey stranger," she laughs as he opens the door, burying a hand in her hair as he mutters in between kisses that he missed her.

She reaches up to kiss his cheek, her lips cold and her legs shaking as she tries to keep herself warm. "It's freezing," she exclaims before he lets her in.

He lives in a small apartment now, it's not much and located in a pretty bad neighborhood but at least he has a private bathroom. His mom keeps sending him money because apparently she's doing really well in Europe and since he got a scholarship and a part time job at some coffee shop he's able to afford it..

She takes off her coat and beanie, her cheeks red and small snowflakes in her hair. "I can't believe you're wearing a t-shirt. You're insane," she tells him, wiping some lip gloss off his cheek.

"Well, I intend on wearing nothing later," he raises his eyebrows suggestively as his fingers slip under her sweater, ghosting up her back and causing goosebumps to raise from the small of her back to the nape of her neck.

"Later, huh?" She locks her arms behind his neck and she feels even thinner than he remembers and even looks a little bit taller and he forgot how much could change in a short period of time.

"Or now," he suggests as he throws her over his shoulder and heads straight to the bedroom.

It takes him about four days to realize she's really here, with him and he guesses the distance is slowly driving him crazy. It takes him four days to stop panicking whenever he can't find her within one glance around his bedroom and to stop holding her hand so tightly she winces slightly. It's all starting to take it's toll on him and he can't wait until they're finally free from school and can live wherever they want.

…

He goes to see her during Spring break and when he holds her in his arms, he can practically feel her bones sticking out but when he asks her about it she says it's because of the stress. At the time, it made sense because she just got offered a deal by some big shot record company and was recording an album while still trying to keep up with all of her classes. He didn't want to push it either, because he knew she'd always been a little bit self conscious of her body and didn't want to make her feel bad about being skinny.

She still looked perfect to him and she still acted the same and she still smiled the same. She was still his Marley.

"I can't wait to get out of school." It's snowing outside and there's nothing on TV, not for him at least, so he's forced to watch an old episode of Gossip Girl (instead he's texting with Puck about a football game).

"Me neither," she tells him as she sighs and snuggles deeper against the fabric of his sweatshirt.

"Will you come live with me?" He mumbles before he knows it and her head shifts, so it's resting on his lap as her eyes look up into his. "After graduation?"

"Maybe, if you learn not to leave your dirty socks around the _entire_ apartment," she grins and he sighs dramatically. "Seriously, Jake, the other day I found one in the kitchen cabinet. The _kitchen cabinet_. What is a sock doing there?"

"Well, then I guess you'll still be living with Tina next year," he tells her idly as he puts his iPhone down and takes the remote in his hands.

"You're a jerk," she huffs, sitting up Indian style and crossing her arms.

He zaps to another channel and she gasps a little, as she tries reaching for the remote. "Hey, I was watching that!"

His grip is too strong and holds it above her head, and she pouts a little, "You're such a child, Jake."

He lets out a chuckle, as he cocks an eyebrow, "Says the one pouting like a little girl."

"Ha," she sticks out her tongue as she yanks the object out of his hands and switches the TV back to the previous channel.

"Wow, real classy, Lee," he tells her as he tries taking it back but she won't have any of it. In a swift movement they tumble over and fall to the floor, he winces a little he lands on his elbow but she laughs (like actual laughs with tears in her eyes and trouble to breathe) and stays right on top of him.

"You should've just let me watch Gossip Girl, Jake," she informs him, tilting her head slightly and he pulls her towards him, locking his arms around her waist.

She lets out a small giggle as she leans down and presses her lips against his, her hair framing their heads.

When she presses her chest against his and he can practically fucking feel her ribs he starts to wonder if being that skinny is even remotely healthy because it sure doesn't feel like it.

…

She doesn't really eat around him and he doesn't really think anything off it because it isn't any of his business when or what she eats. That is until he hears her hurling in the bathroom after breakfast when she thinks he's still out getting milk.

He doesn't say anything when she leaves the bathroom and she smiles at him (one that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up) but when they go out for lunch, he offers her a brownie.

"No, thank you. I had a big breakfast," she tells him, lying so fluently it kind of scared him.

"No, you didn't, I was there," he basically shoves it up her face (he doesn't care, he just wants prove this isn't true, that he was hearing things, that he was dead wrong but all she was giving him was reasons to be worried) and she scrunches her nose, claiming she doesn't feel good.

"So that's why you were throwing up?" He asks her, putting the brownie down and there's this serious tone to his voice that makes her blood run cold. "This morning, I mean?"

She frowns, putting her cutlery down. She'd been picking at her salad all lunch and if she couldn't even finish a fucking salad— then how bad was it really?

"Were you spying on me?"

"That's funny, that didn't sound like a '_Yes, Jake, I have the flu that's why I was puking my guts out in the bathroom earlier'_," he narrows his eyes at her and she yanks the brownie off the table, taking a big bite. "There, you happy now?"

"_Ecstatic_."

They don't talk the entire way home and when they get to her apartment she locks herself into her room. He might have hurt her feelings but, _shit_, what if she really wasn't eating?

"Lee..." He tries as he uses his knuckles to knock on the door softly.

"Go away," she says and she's literally breaking his heart right now. She sounds sad and drained, like she's been crying.

"I'm sorry, okay? It wasn't any of my business and I shouldn't have said anything—" she opens the door and she's crying again and he feels like a dick again and it's just fucking painful for him to see her so broken.

"You were right," she swallows hard as she wraps her arms around herself. "I haven't been eating, not as much and when I do, I..." Her voice trails off as she stares at the space behind him. The bathroom.

"Why?" He practically yells and he knows it's not her fault and he shouldn't yell but fuck, fuck, _fuck_. "Why would you do that?"

She shrugs idly, a tear rolling down her cheek and leaving a black stain. "I'm sorry."

He closes his eyes for a moment, cursing himself. "No baby, don't— don't apologize."

"I just— everyone in LA is so skinny and then one girl at a party told me that on TV you gain at least twelve pounds and— I had this photo shoot the next day so, so I tried it once and—" he cuts her off, and fuck him for not being good with words and there goes absolutely nothing, "Listen to me, you're perfect. You're beautiful, you don't need to lose weight for fucking anyone. You're perfect, okay?" He sounds desperate but he is, he so is because she needs to stop— she has to stop because who know what could happen if she continued this? He can't.. Lose her.

She nods, her face in his hands but something tells him his words weren't enough, not really.

It scares him. How easily she went from happily ordering two desserts (and finishing his) and wiping the chocolate filling off her _twinkie_ on his face before kissing it off and enjoying a bowl of popcorn during movies to absolutely hating food. It scares him because if that happened so gradually but quickly without him even noticing, what about him? What if she ever ends up hating him?

He's afraid to ask her. Besides he never really talks about his feelings and he's not about to start when she's obviously in need of him. He can't be the weak one, not right now.

Later when they're curled up on the couch and he's pretty sure she's asleep and he's left wondering why exactly (because she never did answer that), she whispers, "Do you hate me?"

"What?" He sits up a little and she takes her head of his chest and rubs her eyes carefully.

"I mean... I'm not easy to be around— especially not right now," she says just loud enough for him to hear as she plays with the rim of her dress.

He reaches out and touches the necklace around her neck (it's no longer a cross but a small diamond heart he send her for Valentine's day), "I love you, I thought I told you that before."

She remains quiet for a while as she wraps and unwraps her finger around the end of her dress, her eyes fixed on anything but him. He hates seeing her like this, he hates himself for not knowing how to make it better. He can't find the words to fix it, he can't. He doesn't know how to fix it any other way so basically he's fucking screwed. He's so desperate he's willing to try about anything.

"_If you smile through your pain and sorrow, smile and maybe tomorrow, you'll see the sun come shining through_," he tells her seriously as he nudges her a little with his elbow, and she looks up at him, her eyes slightly widened with surprise as she bites her lip.

"Did you just quote a song?"

"It's ancient, I thought you wouldn't notice."

"It's Charlie Chaplin, Jake."

"Well.. Busted?" He smirks and she smiles and he made her smile with a stupid joke that wasn't even funny, so that's progress, right?

"I hate you," she buries her head into his shoulder and closes her eyes. She hates how easy he can make the thoughts go away, and how he's not always there to do so.

He leans down to place a kiss on head, as he smiles, "Me too."

…

School started a few days ago and he knows he can't keep missing his classes because that basically means his graduation will be delayed with another and that's another year without Marley— but he can't leave without making sure she's fine. He just can't.

"Are you still here?" She sighs, putting her keys down on the counter as she slips out of her shoes and collects her hair, tying it together.

"How was school?" He asks as he fills his mouth with more cereal, to be honest he just woke up.

"Fine," she sounds a little on edge, as she puts away her shoes before coming back to the kitchen, "How is yours going? I mean, now that you're not going and all?"

"I told you— I'm not leaving until I'm sure you're okay."

"Jake," she begs, before she sighs, running a hand through her long hair, "I'm not.. _Okay_."

"See? Now—"

"No, I'm not okay, but I'm getting there. You don't have to worry about me. I don't want you to risk getting kicked off school for one of my stupid problems," she tells him as she sits down at the breakfast table.

"It's not stupid," he snaps because he can't ever have her think this is just a stupid little thing, because it's not. It's endangering her life, for God's sake. That is not just a _stupid little thing_.

"Look," she puts her hand over his, the other one landing on his thigh, her eyes soft and gentle and he just wants to make it all go away. "I love you for doing this, okay? But I need to do this on my own. I'm not saying I'll be going to McDonalds any time soon but I ate breakfast today _and_ lunch and I did it on my own."

"Yeah, but I want to help you. I don't want to look back on this later and think _I should've stayed_."

By now he's put down his spoon and boring his eyes into hers, because _no_, she's not going to win this one.

"You are helping me, Jake. By going to school and telling me how great your solo went or how much you hate your modern dance teacher and checking in on me so much it feels like I'm choking," she jokes but he doesn't think it's funny. Not even a little bit.

"Marley, I can't leave you all by yourself. Look what happened last time," he retorts, grabbing onto her hand tightly.

"I'm not alone, Jake. I live here with Unique and Tina and you're just a phone call away, right? If I feel like... If I feel like doing anything I'll, I'll call you."

She's winning again and he hates it.

"Promise?"

She nods her head, using her hand on his thigh for support as she leans forward to brush her lips against his. "I promise."

"I don't know, Lee. It just sounds like you want to get me out of here as soon as possible."

"That's not fair, Jake," she leans back, letting go of his hand. "Of course I want you here with me. But you can't expect me to accept that you're giving up your dream because of me."

"What are my dreams going to do for me when I don't have you?"

"Jake, I promise I won't do it again. You're going to have to take my word on this," she puts her hand on his forearm, "_Please_."

Eventually he gives in, because he always gives in to her and when a few months later she posts a picture on Facebook of her and her friends, (a big tub of ice cream in front of them and a smile on her _healthy_ face) he thanks God he trusted her, because he could've never fixed her that well himself.

…

It's October, his senior year, when he sees her face for the first time on a billboard. A fucking billboard in the middle of Times Square. He stands there like an idiot for a minute because— is that his _girlfriend_?

It's his girlfriend with her face _hugely_ displayed in New York's most visited place. The first thing he does is call her and she almost screams into his ear and he finds out her album sold a lot of copies already and they want her to do a tour and he all he wants to do is hug her, but he can't.

He goes home and listens to her voice on repeat and he's just really fucking proud.

…

If he thought he got to see her too less the last couple of years, he was dead wrong. Marley's on tour and he's busy trying to get hired by a company (_any_ company at this point) by doing really good at school and then his mom comes back (from Hungary or Switzerland or wherever the fuck they speak German) and he has literally no free time.

He gets to see her during New Year, though and she tells him another one of her dreams came true. New Year's Eve in New York. His entire family is there (because like Puck said '_what the fuck are we gonna do in Lima? Might as well sign ourselves up for a spot in a nursing home_'), this time including Marley and his mom (and they get along, _holy fuck_, they get along and that had been one of his biggest fears all this time— but to be honest who wouldn't like Marley?) and he kind of feels _complete_ (and like a totally wuss but tonight he'll overlook that).

She just flew in from Utah and she looks really tired but she's wearing these pretty diamond earrings he send her for Christmas (or Hanukkah, he's still not sure how they're going to work that out) and his favorite smile and she's just really perfect. He knows it's a total chick thing to say and usually when people call their girlfriends perfect it's total bullshit because no one's perfect, right? _Right_. Well, wait till you fucking meet Marley Rose.

He needed a little bit of quiet after Quinn was yelling at Puck for feeding Jayden a bit of champagne and his mom was loudly singing along to the songs on the radio after drinking a little bit too much of said champagne. So yeah, a little bit of quiet was nice and he found it on his balcony.

"So, you sure you got room in here for all my platinum records and important awards?" She puts her arms around his shoulder from behind, pressing the side of her face against his back. He grabs onto her hands, which were resting on his chest.

Now it isn't just a stupid half serious joke which results into a half an hour long make out session, or a casual mention over dinner how lonely you were all by yourself in this lonely apartment. It was serious. It was fucking scary because now there were only so many more ways this could go wrong and how he could screw up but something about the look on her face didn't make it so scary at all.

"What about school?" Just getting the obvious out of the way.

She lets go of him and he faces her. She shrugs, offering a, "I could always go back."

He nods tightly, holding in his smile, before he squints his eyes a little, "What about your parents?"

"They said it was fine, besides I'm twenty-one. Legal in every country."

"Tina and Unique?"

"Skype. Visits. Maybe they'll move here. I mean, I've heard the people here are _great_."

"What about the money? Can you even afford to live in this apartment with me?" Now he does smile because this just turned into a complete bullshit conversation. She's coming to live with him and he's so fucking happy he might forget all about the firework and his family and just lock them in his room. _Their _room.

She laughs this time, teasing right back, "I think I can scramble together a few dollars. What's the rent? Thirty bucks? _Twenty_?"

"_Very_ funny, Lee," he narrows his eyes at her before locking his arms around her waist, resting his hands on her lower back.

She tilts her head a little, nodding her head to herself, "I thought so." She looks at him, her eyes turning serious all of a sudden, but her smile still teasing, "So, what do you say, Mr. Puckerman?"

"I'd be delighted to have you around to work on my nerves _every_ day, Ms. Rose."

She slaps his chest playfully, before adding, "Just take the poster of me down, that's awkward if I live here."

"But I'm like your biggest fan, I would like never, like— Oh my God," he retorts in a monotone voice before he smirks and she leans up to kiss him.

"Shut up, okay?"

"Your wish is my command."

…

The first week she's living with him they go see a basketball game.

"I can't believe you're rooting for the Lakers when you live in New York."

"I was born and raised in Los Angeles, babe. Once a Lakers fan, always a Lakers fan."

"Well, don't look at me, I lived there for three years but I'm still for the Knicks." She raises her eyebrows at him as she points a finger at him before disappearing into the bathroom.

"How could you do this to me?" He mutters as she comes back, clad in a Knicks jersey and shorts, smirking. If he wasn't so _against_ the Knicks he would find her need to fit into New York by supporting a basketball team very adorable (he still does anyway).

"You're on team Knicks, yet?" She asks him sweetly like she doesn't know exactly what she's doing to him.

"You're hilarious," he deadpanned, shaking his head as he pulled her onto his lap. She leans down, putting both of her hands on the sides of his face before connecting their lips for a brief moment.

"We could just.. Not go?" He squints his eyes a little, smugly looking at her as he runs a hand over her bare thigh.

"No, we're going, Puckerman," she laughs as she gets off his lap and takes out a Knicks cap, "So do you want to wear it or should I?"

"I bet you a hundred bucks the Lakers are going to win," he challenges her and she crosses her arms, "Okay, but let's make this interesting."

"Whatever you want your consequences to be, Lee."

She huffs, "Loser does the dishes for a week."

"Naked," he adds and she laughs.

"No, not naked. Just the dishes."

"Deal. Get your gloves out of the closet, baby, because you're going down."

He can feel people watching them from the corner of his eyes, he hears the whispers about her name and he feels kind of creeped out by the fact people are taking pictures of them, and that they're on twitter not even a minute later. His mentions get blown up by people he doesn't know, either telling him he looks cute with Marley or that they think he couldn't be worse for her (and that was the nicest one of those). He doesn't know how she handles it.

She's so excited for the game even though he has to explain everything to her, twice. She doesn't know shit about basketball which makes it all kind of funny. She keeps clapping at the wrong moments and jumping when the Knicks score and encouraging players she's never even heard of. He guessed that was the best part of going to a game with her, anyway.

The Lakers are about to lose, just his luck. He knows he's on for a night of pure torture.

"So, Jake," she starts innocently, "I can't see the scoreboard from here. What does it say?"

"Hilarious," he pretends to be focused on the game. There's still a few minutes left. They _could_ still win.

"Come on, Jake, please just help me out here." She's full on taunting him now as she nudges her shoulder into his.

"It says I'm never taking you to a basketball game again."

"Oh, I thought it said you were a big, sore loser?" She smirks as he looks back at her, a little bit surprised (because when had Marley ever been good at quick comebacks).

"Fine. The Lakers are behind on the Knicks." He shakes his head, pulling her hand onto his lap. He plays with their fingers as he tries to watch the last few moments of the game, it's hard though because she keeps pushing and pulling on his fingers playfully.

"Stop it," he mumbles, placing a kiss on the back of her hand and she leans towards him, her warm breath hitting his neck as he stiffens, his jaw tightening slightly as she starts to fucking whisper, "_Jake_?"

"Mhmm?"

"The Knicks just won."

The buzzer goes off and he turns to face her, "You're a tease."

She shrugs a little before taking a sip of her coke, and she's so fucking frustrating and she drives him so immensely insane but he still loves her more than anything in the world (even more than the Lakers).

"Maybe, but at least I'm not the one doing the dishes for the rest of the week."

"Can we still do the part I suggested too?"

…

He's hired by a company in New York two weeks after he graduates. They tell him it's because he shows _promise_ but he knows it's because he fucking rocked his final showcase.

They're out to celebrate at a really fancy restaurant, not because they like it—because they were both raised with little money so _steamed oysters_ and _frog legs_ weren't really their thing— but because at least here no one will be allowed to take a damn picture of them.

It wasn't the normal people who came up to them and asked Marley for an autograph or a picture that bothered him, because they actually liked her, but it were the people who shamelessly took pictures to sell them for money that _did_.

At least Marley had a reason to put a pretty dress on, even though he didn't really care what she wore.

"Tina called me the other day to tell me she was engaged," she tells him over the first course and he nods, finishing the food in his mouth before answering, "Really?"

"Yeah, came as a surprise to me, too. His name is Mike Chang. Unique told me they were one of those corny couples. Haven't been apart since they met," she takes a sip of her coke.

"I hate those kind of couples."

"Hate to break it to you, but we might be one of them."

"No," he tells her sternly, "Please, let me keep part of manhood. We're not corny."

"You still have my CD on repeat in your car."

"That's supportive, not corny," he convinces her (and himself, they're not corny or cheesy or dependent— he just likes being with her all the time but it's not like he dies whenever they're apart. They spent most of their fucking relationship apart. Even now. She tours and his agenda is already full with rehearsals and shows for his company, he might tour soon too— they're apart all the fucking time so he might be a little bit more _emotional_ when he does see her. Not corny.) She just laughs, putting her hand on his cheek and caressing it with her thumb.

They're in their pajamas, watching a movie before bed because it's kind of their thing. Staying up late and watching movies they've seen so many times before it's not even remotely social for them to do any more.

"Who calls their kid _Lorraine_?"

"The same people who chose to bring twelve children into this world," Marley turns to face him, taking her chin of her knee.

"That is fucking insane. I mean twelve?"

"How many kids do you want?" She yawns because it's like that now. They just talk about that sort of shit— marriage and children and dogs and the future— because it's kind of normal for them to assume they're going to be together forever now.

He puts his arm around her and pulls her closer, "I'll know that after the first one."

"When?"

He starts kissing her neck because he's still good at avoiding the serious shit even though it's bound to come up again one day.

"Jake," she smiles as his hand slips under her shirt and her hand automatically rests on his chest. "I asked you something."

He stops kissing her neck just long enough to breathe a few words, "I don't know, babe, but I think we could practice _right now_."

She giggles as lays her down on the couch in one swift move.

"Fine, but after the first time I'll decide if we're doing it again any time in the near future," she mocks his words as he takes off his shirt.

"So, I should make it worthwhile?"

She teases him, running her fingers up his chest, before wrapping them around his neck and pulling him down for a sweet kiss. "Very, _very_ worthwhile, it's probably your last time for a while."

…

"_you give me that hummingbird heartbeat, spread my wings and make me fly._"

…

( A/N lol, we're on a hiatus with a lot of _awesome_ spoilers, what'd did you expect? so yah, I hope anyone likes this. I'm not sure, it's like I know the words in my head but can't get them onto paper. I know the parts about breaks and shit might not be correct but I'm not from the US and Wikipedia is only valid when it is. Also, sorry if my way of handling Marley's eating disorder was a bit strange I just don't know how Jake would react. I changed a few things in the last chapter, too, wasn't all that certain about the last parts. Please leave a review it'd makes we wanna throw myself into a tornado out of love, ya feel me? The songs I do not own: Hummingbird heartbeat by Katy Perry and Smile by Charlie Chaplin.)


	3. i would give the world to you

**{Part three}**

…

"_a million suns that shine upon me, a million eyes you are the brightest blue._"

…

They have this whole thing figured out.

When he goes on tour with his company, she works on her second album, which you can do practically anywhere (even on the back of a tour bus, he found out). And when she goes on tour he takes as much time off as possible (it cost him to miss out on a lot of birthday parties, premieres and other awesome shit and it takes major discipline but it beats not seeing Marley for months at a time).

So yeah, him and Marley are doing great. She's awesome and they're awesome together and he really loves her still, longer than he has ever loved anyone besides his mom— but it's not like he could or would want to (_ever_) get himself to stop.

…

He wakes up early (he knows this because it's still dark and he has a sixth sense— and an allergy— for early) with Marley trying to remove his arm from her torso. He knows she has to get up to work on tour rehearsal, and to pull her even tighter against his chest would be a selfish thing to do, but he does it anyway because she's Marley, and she's soft and really pretty and he likes laying in bed with her.

She's only wearing his t-shirt and that's kind of a thing since they live together. They share about everything and there's no personal space whatsoever but if he had sacrifice anything for anyone, it would be Marley.

"Please stay," he whispers against her hair, voice hoarse because it's early and he hates early but he loves waking up with Marley. He nuzzles his face in her neck and plants a few lazy kisses there because he knows her and he knows she's about to give in when she says his name, a little whine in her voice.

She ends up calling in sick though, after he convinces her everyone deserves a free day and she works so hard and _babe, you're never sick_— and they stay in bed the whole day. Just as he likes it.

...

He falls during a performance and it fucking hurts and he hears it. The actual snapping of bone, or the end of his career whatever you prefer.

His foot is bandaged and the doctor assures him he's healing and his foot might be, but he isn't. He stays in bed for days, refuses to come out to shower or eat or do anything remotely normal. The doctor told him to continue his everyday routine— without the dancing— but he can't. What's the point?

A few friends and co-workers leave him messages and send him flowers and cards and one of them even comes to visit, but he can't bare looking at them.

He knows the odds. Not many professional dancers who got injured ever got back in the field, at least not like they used to. Especially not when surgery is necessary.

And the odds have never been in his favor to begin with. Hence the broken foot and the ruptured achilles tendon.

Marley finally manages to get him out of his room after six days but he can't look at her and he can't walk without wanting to burst into fucking tears and he feels her (and everything else he's ever touched) slipping through his fingers. He hates himself.

She makes him eat and she's so sweet and comforting— and comfortable because around her he feels slightly less _hurt_. (It's the way she runs a hand over his head when he starts to eat and the way she rests her hand on his shoulder when she leans over to put a glass of water on the table and the way she smiles at him and kisses his cheek and doesn't make him feel like he's just lost everything— because he still has her.)

She's much better at this fixing thing, he realizes, because at the end of the day she's got him smiling, and that's progress.

…

She gets everyone who comes to visit him to sign his cast and she puts her name on the middle in big cursive letters and he's kind of sad when they take it off, but not really. Just a little. He's fucking fine with the fact he doesn't need those damn crutches any more and he doesn't feel like a complete waste of space, which is good— great.

He still can't do much because his foot wasn't even the biggest problem, it was his heel. But Marley has this way of doing things and saying things— the _right_ ones— like all the time, she's really positive about everything— his foot, his career, but him mainly (he's afraid that maybe she's thinking _too_ highly off him) and it kind of makes him not want to be so ungrateful.

The cast was kind of safe, you know? Everyone knew he was hurt, they could see. Now he had to get back in the field, now he had to become as good as he used to be, now there were no excuses.

To say he was scared sounded like an awfully dumb thing, but fuck, he was scared shitless. He wasn't a stranger to failure but something about already having accomplished something only to lose it and then having to regain it all over again was even worse.

…

She brings home a puppy and lets him name it as long as he promises to walk it three times a day. He falls in love with the puppy, calls him Baylor, and he knows she's luring him in to start walking properly again but he goes along with it anyway.

(He manages to remind himself the odds have always been in his favor. He has Marley.)

…

"Jake," she groans, burying her head in his shoulder, covering her face with her hair, "No."

"What?" He smiles knowingly as he squeezes her waist, turning the volume of the TV louder with the remote control in his other hand. He normally didn't really enjoy shows like _The Voice_, but he liked a particular guest judge in this episode.

"You know what," he hears her murmur as he laughs, moving her hair out of her face as she looks up at him.

"You don't like this show?" He asks innocently as she sits up and shoots him a weak glare.

"Turn it off."

"No." He raises his eyebrows to let her know he isn't back down.

She sighs, crossing her arms, "Jake, I don't want to watch myself. It's embarrassing."

"It's kind of adorable," he counters and it's her turn to raise her eyebrows as she looks up at him.

"Adorable, huh?"

"Look, that girl is almost crying because you told her she sounded great," he points towards the TV, ignoring her statement as he fixes his attention on the show.

Suddenly he feels her starting to kiss his cheek, then his jaw before moving on to his neck.

"Marley," he warns as he hears her voice invading the room but she's not talking. Not even a little.

Her hand slowly runs up his chest under his shirt as she lets out a small, "_Hmm_?" He finally caves in and leans down to kiss her as he feels her smile against his lips in victory.

They don't watch _The Voice_, or any show for that matter, but he guesses Marley always gets her way around him and that's just the way it is.

...

In they year they both turn twenty-five a lot happens. He finds out he gets his first solo in a new piece by some Russian guy who's apparently the new big deal, she finds out she's won three grammys and the title of _best selling artist of the year_ and they both find out something entirely different.

…

She lets go of his hand for a second to throw away the stick of her cotton candy, licking her fingers before wiping them off on her jeans.

"I love Disney World, it makes me feel like I'm a kid again," she exclaims happily as she swings their hands together. He genuinely hasn't seen her this happy in a while, because of work and stress and useless fights. (There's even a little skip in her step.)

"Even with all these people creeping on us?" He asks, readjusting the black ray bans on his nose, as he spots another girl with her phone out ready to take a picture.

She shrugs, holding up his hand to her mouth as she places a kiss on it, "Relax, take it easy.."

"I swear to God if you're about to burst into a song I'm going back to the hotel room."

A laugh bubbles up her throat, as she runs her other hand up and down the inside of his arm, "It was Mika!"

"I don't care who it is, the last time we were a trending topic for like a wee— Are you okay?" He frowns as he watches her expression change from happy to ghostlike in less than two seconds.

"I don't—" she lets go of his hand, rushing towards the bathroom area. He quickly rushes after her, barging into the girls' bathroom without hesitation. He gets a few weird looks from women who were just about to leave but he doesn't really give a shit.

"Marley?" He questions worriedly as he hears an all too familiar noise he didn't ever want to hear from her again.

"I'm fine."

Soon enough, she comes out of one of the stalls, wiping her mouth before taking a bottle of water from her bag and taking a swig from it. She quickly washes her hands as she looks up at him in the mirror. He's looking rather upset, his eyebrows raised and she sends him a comforting smile. "Don't worry, Jake. I ate _so_ much food before we went in the teacups, it must've made me sick."

"You sure?" He asks as she swings her bag over her shoulder and puts her arm around his waist.

She looks up at him and smiles, "I'm perfect."

…

"I need to pee," she tells him, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Are you kidding me? You _just_ peed," he turns his head to glance at her before turning his eyes back onto the road, "Literally a minute ago."

"I need to go again, Jake,"

"We're almost there."

"If I pee my pants I will kill you,"

"I think if you pee your pants you won't have to kill me I think I'll just take a shot myself, since I'll be dating a _grown-up_ girl who pees her pants," he shakes his head and she reaches out to bump her fist into his shoulder.

She shimmies in her seat, shaking her leg lightly, "Come on, Jake. Please."

He sighs, pulling over at a reststop restaurant. It's full of greasy racist truckers and skimpy dressed fifty year old woman who aren't afraid of '_no_'. He finds this out the hard way while leaning against the toilet building waiting for his girlfriend to come out. She's fucking lucky he loves her so much.

...

"Jake," she giggles a little as he presses her against the wall as soon as they enter their apartment. He would stop because she asks him, but her hands— which are unbuttoning his shirt very, _very_ quickly— tell him otherwise.

"Mhmm?" He doesn't even bother looking up as he kisses her neck while all the while taking off his jacket and kicking off his shoes.

"Jake," she says, this time more serious as she puts her hands on top of his. He freezes and she bites down on her lip, trying not to smile.

This time he does look up at her, like a puppy who's just been kicked and she laughs.

"Can we at least make sure we make it to the bedroom this time?"

"Maybe."

He places a kiss on her mouth with a smile before slowly running his hand up to stomach as she moves her hands to his back. She winces slightly as he reaches her chest.

He pulls back, alarmed. "Are you okay? Did I do something?"

She laughs quietly, putting his hand back on her chest. "No, I think I'm just a little sore from my new yoga exercises."

"I'll be gentle, I promise."

She raises an eyebrow and he cracks a smile.

"Gentle-_er_."

She raises both of her eyebrows this time and he chuckles, moving her hair off her shoulder.

"I'll be careful, you know I will."

She breaks out in a smile and runs a hand over his head before pulling him back and kissing him.

…

"I've never seen so many creepy ass toilets, dude. One was gold with pink like a throne, and some other one was decorated like it was some sort of candy cane. It was insane."

"You go to Disneyworld and you tell me about the fucking bathrooms? You are sick, man."

"I'm not even kidding. One looked like a rat."

"That's Mickey Mouse, you dumbass. Why the hell did you sightsee all of the bathrooms? Running from your girlfriend?" Puck snickered as he pressed the phone in between his shoulder and ear, flipping through the newest edition of one of Quinn's shitty magazines. Some of it actually came in handy now and then.

"More like running after," Jake sighed, zapping through the channels. Nothing good was on. Not even a sport game he could pretend he cared about.

"Uh oh, trouble in paradise, little bro?" He shifts a little before putting the phone down next to him, putting it on speaker.

"No man, she just had to pee like literally every fucking five seconds and one time she got sick from the teacups and I basically had to barge down the door of the _fairy princess ladies' room_."

"Weird," Puck answers as he sits up throwing the magazine under the couch as he sees his wife in the corner of his eye.

"Yeah, and get this," he lowers his voice a little, even though Marley isn't home, "The other night when we were about to.. _you know_, I touched her boob and she got all like weird and shit. Like she was in pain. When I asked her about it she was all like '_I got some new yoga shit from my personal trainer who pretends he's gay but really isn't_'."

"Still not over it?" Puck chuckles, referring to the time Jake wanted to surprise Marley with a coffee after her workout and she introduced him to her new personal trainer. His name was Cooper Anderson and he was everything Jake was not.

"Never."

"Well, sounds to me like she has someone on the side, brother from another colored mother. Maybe someone a little rough or one of those freaks who's into s&m and shit," Puck laughs, finding himself rather funny, "Maybe he injured her bladder or something while they were at it."

"Fuck you," Jake spits as he clenches his phone in hand so tightly, he's afraid he's going to break it. Just thinking about Marley with another guy makes his head spin. It took him two years to get used to Marley even touching other guys in her music videos, let alone her actually being with another fucking dude. He knows his brother is just kidding around but it still angers him like no fucking tomorrow.

"Are you sure it's not just something else?" Quinn's amused voice sounds distant but becomes louder with every word as she sits down next to Puck on the couch.

"Dude, I'm on speaker?" Jake groans as he leans back on the couch, closing his eyes in annoyance.

"Sorry, ever since I said no to sex a few nights ago Quinn's convinced I'm doing another chick."

"What the hell? That's not like you." Baylor jumps on the couch and Jake smiles, ruffling the hairs on his head before moving his hand to his back and petting him.

"I know, man, I know. It was a temporary short circuit in my brain. I was watching football and I was like half asleep. Now, every time she's in the room I'm obligated to put it on speaker. She's controlling like that. Ouch."

"I'm not apologizing for hitting you."

"I'm not apologizing for calling you controlling. You are. It's what you do. It's your thing. You're like, Quinn _Controlling_ Fabray. I still love you, even though you're controlling. So, you should still love me even though in a haze I refused sex. I promise I won't ever do it again."

"I love you, too, egghead."

He hears some noises he doesn't want to define as he rolls his eyes, they're so annoying— even over the damn phone.

"Hanging up now."

"No, wait, Jake!" Quinn calls out and he hears Puck protest loudly. He ignores the latter as he responds to his sister-in-law with a sigh. "Yes?"

"Are you sure Marley's not just pregnant?"

He laughs. He laughs really hard because he's not even old enough. He doesn't even know if he wants kids! He loves Jayden, sure, but that kid's not his. He doesn't have all this responsibility for a human being, a little, tiny, small person. It's fucking insane.

"Yeah man, when I think about it it makes sense. During Quinn's first pregnancy she was constantly running out of classrooms to pee."

"I was throwing up, asshole."

"Well, excuse me for not remembering every little detail about our life sixty thousand years ago."

"Ugh, _he_'s dumb, Jake," she assures him before continuing, "_But_, excessive peeing is a sign of pregnancy. So is throwing up, as you're probably aware. Uhm, I didn't have spotting but some girls do and oh yeah, tiredness, backache, headache, foodcravings, tender breasts—"

"This sounds like a terminal disease," Puck interrupts her and Jake hears a loud and clear wince from said brother only seconds later.

"Well, shit, I need to hang up and sort this shit out before—"

"Before what?" Quinn sounds worried. He wants to say, before he breaks out in tears or goes insane or accidentally breaks his hand again.

"Bye."

…

Marley's pregnant. No, she is actually expecting a baby. A baby that's his. And hers, of course. But, it's his and hers and it's like, in her.

They went to the doctor's and they showed him this, this_ it_.

He didn't know what it was— hearing the heartbeat maybe, or seeing this little, little _bean_ on the screen and being told that it was something living and theirs— he just kind of feels really happy all of a sudden.

He knows he should be scared and all, considering he's so young and he's no way near ready for this (and he'll probably never will be) and Marley's father is probably going to vile him alive but it's theirs, you know?

Marley grabs his hand, tears in her eyes and she doesn't have to speak to tell him what's on her mind.

This is the best thing that ever happened to him, to them.

...

"You're getting _huge_!" Quinn exclaims excitedly as she puts both of her hands on Marley's stomach. Jake stiffens, tightening his jaw as he puts his arm around her shoulders, resting it on the couch.

She turns her head a little, giving him a small but comforting smile.

She's only a few months along, just starting to show but there's like this round bump that's like a daily reminder that she can't drink or eat raw meat and that they're going to have a baby. And Marley's been totally happy, already talking about names and baby rooms and about how excited she is. But he knows it's a touchy subject— especially when Quinn calls her _huge_ in this stadium of the pregnancy.

"You're glowing!" Quinn shifts her head so she's looking at Puck— her green eyes huge and a small pout on her lips— as she adds, "Isn't she glowing Puck? C'mon, Puck. Tell her she's glowing. Look at her cute belly, doesn't she have a cute belly?"

"No," he crosses his arms sternly as his lips form a tight line. "No fucking way, Q."

"So you don't want me to be happy? And glow while I'm being happy?" Quinn takes her hands off Marley's stomach as she purses her lips, imitating Puck's posture.

"Fuck no. Were you even there the first two times you were pregnant? I'm happy I'm still alive to remind you because you almost killed me for like eighty percent of the time during the pregnancies. It was hell," he retorts, a frown on his face.

Jake snickers as he watches the exchange between his brother and sister-in-law before turning his head to look at Jayden. (He doesn't really want to see his brother get slaughtered for his remarks.)

He's playing a game on his DS, not seeming surprised or appalled by any of this as Jake nudges him, "I don't know how you manage to live with them."

"Mom's been begging for a new baby every since I learned to walk."

Marley rests her head on Jake's shoulder and he gives her a small smile, pulling her closer, "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she smiles widely, leaning up to kiss his cheek. She nudges towards Jayden, "Do you think he still wants to hold the baby when it comes?"

"I don't know he seems pretty attached to that DS, I don't think he'll let it go," Jake clears his throat, raising his voice purposely.

Jayden's head snaps up, his eyebrows knitting together, "I will! I'll let it go, I promise. I'll go see gamers anonymous if you want me to."

They both laugh, the small boy's fascination with babies was pretty adorable.

"Of course," Marley assures him with a smile.

"If you're not an orphan by then," Jake adds, raising his voice so Quinn and Puck— who were still bickering like two three year olds over whose drawing was better— could hear.

Quinn's eyes soften as she leans down and kisses Jayden's head, "You know I'll love you, right? I won't kill your father for your sake, baby."

Puck lets out a sigh of relieve a little too soon as Quinn adds, muttering that '_she might just cut off his genitals in his sleep_'.

"That's not even funny, Q. That's fucked up."

"Language!"

...

Puck finds Jake in the living room with a glass of scotch in front of the window at 2am, he snickers a little, sitting down on the back of chair.

"Having a pity party all by yourself, Jake? I thought you were done with those after you met your little miss sunshine," Puck smirks as he grabs the glass from Jake and takes a swig himself.

"She's asleep and I just.. Needed a little time to think. About everything."

Puck nods, looking out the window himself.

Jake remains silent for a moment before blurting out, "Were you ever scared you were going to end up like dad? I mean, _fuck_, I already feel like packing my bags and running away and the kid's not even here yet."

"You're not worried you're gonna end up like that lowlife asshole, are you? I sure as hell did everything I could to not end up like that piece of shit," he lowers his voice, not wanting to wake up Marley or Jayden, or worse— Quinn. He would never live it down if he disturbed her sleep. "And as long as you keep doing what you're doing, you won't end up like him either."

"I guess, I just— I don't know man. I just, I have no fucking clue what I'm doing, I'm not even sure if I'm ready for this or if I'll ever be but it's not like I can tell Marley that and I just— I just, don't know," Jake gets up from his seat, grabbing the glass from Puck and walking over to the booze cabinet to pour himself another glass. He swallows it down in one gulp before starting to pace up and down the livingroom.

"Calm your tits, man. We're not some chicks who talk about their insecurities and fears and periods," Puck reminds him. It's not them. They don't do this shit. "Matter of fact I think this is the most you've said to me since I know you. What happened to broody one liner Jake?"

"His girlfriend got fucking pregnant," he sighs. He sits back down, running his hands over his head.

"Listen, it's not that hard. You're the dude, she has to do all the work anyway. Just give her whatever she wants for nine months— even if it's something disgusting or not kosher like bacon with peanut butter or oreos with fucking toothpaste," he licks his dry lips, running over the mental list in his head with things he picked up over the years.

"Offer to rub her feet or to help with stupid stuff like doing the dishes so she feels like you're making an effort unless of course you wanna lose your balls. Don't tell her things like _calm down_ or _it'll be fine_, especially not during labor because she will break your hand. I'm _not_ kidding. Also, if you ever wanna have sex again without having disturbing mental images of a bloody melon being pushed out of Marley's _vajayjay_— don't look under the hospital gown. For gods sake, do not look under the hospital gown." Puck's eyes get large and warning, like he's seen a dead body under the dress or something and Jake grimaces.

"I think that was part of the reason me and Quinn broke up after having Beth," Puck sinks back in the chair, resting his hands on his stomach. He sighs, "Man, I wish I hadn't looked under that damn gown."

"Thanks for making me feel not even slightly better," Jake groans, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

"No problem," Puck tells him, ready to move onto a slightly less intimate subject. He spots the same scared expression on his face he knows all too well and lets out a deep breath.

"Look, you love Marley, she loves you and al though this might not have been what you wanted right now, this will be the greatest thing that'll ever happen to you. Kids are annoying and they smell and do gross stuff you don't even wanna know about and they're the biggest cockblockers around— but they're also the greatest little people," he runs a hand over his mohawk, frowning, "And God, I think I just grew a vagina."

Jake laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. "Thanks man."

…

"We should get married," he tells her in bed one day, her head on his chest as she watches some stupid romcom and his hand resting on her stomach. She's seven months along now and it's getting scarier with the day but it's a good scared. Like, when you're in a haunted house and you don't know when or what is going to jump out but you feel safe because you're with your mom and nothing can happen, and it's fun.

He was trying to pay attention to the stupid show but his mind kept wandering to the future. Like how he hoped the baby would look exactly like her and how he hoped he wouldn't screw this up like he does with everything he's ever touched (like his dancing career— sure, he was a successful choreographer right now and he danced, even after his accident, but never the same and never at his best) and how he hoped he was giving Marley everything she wanted, you know? He wanted to give her everything she wanted and ever hoped for and deserved, but shit, he's never done this before. He's clueless about basically everything and he still can't forget the look her father gave him when they were over for dinner and they told them Marley was pregnant. It haunted him in his fucking sleep. Even now. Months later.

But he figures it's the next logical step, right? Marriage. Commitment. It's strange. It's in his nature to run away as soon as words like that even get mentioned, but he's not really scared anymore. Not with Marley. With her, he's kind of fearless.

She shifts her head, looking up at him, "Sure."

"I don't have a ring."

"You can get me one later," she puts her hand on his cheek and caresses it, and he leans down for a kiss before she turns her head back to the tv and continues watching _the bang big theory_ or whatever.

So that's that. They're getting married.

Shit.

…

In the Torah it totally says that a Jew can't marry a Christian but what is he supposed to do? Her father is kind of like a pope or something and besides being kosher (now and then) and accompanying his mom to the synagogue every once in a lightyear, he's not that religious.

So they have a total Christian wedding in a church and everything with her dad as minister and she pretended this wasn't a big deal and everything— but she's totally loving it. She's almost nine months along and it was crazy planning a wedding in such a short period of time but she looks so beautiful in that white dress he kind of just wants to skip the whole ceremony and just go straight back to their house in Lima— because they're kind of so rich they have houses everywhere and it's insane.

He knows Marley's totally one of those girls whose dreamt about her wedding since she was a little girl. And he totally loved seeing her so happy.

And it's okay and not like he's used to because it's not his style (or religion for that matter) at all and he had to undergo this baptizing ritual, but it beats having to wear one of those itchy caps the entire day. And Marley's happy, and glowing and really, really happy— and that's all that really matters anyway.

…

"Well, my first reaction was— _Wow_... I really don't care," Puck tells him, crossing his arms as he leans back onto his chair, "Then I proceeded not to care for the rest of my life."

"C'mon, Puck, you're my best man. The lead singer is sick. All you have to do is sing one song after that we'll just hook up Marley's iPhone."

"Just hook her iPhone up now because there's no way in hell I'm singing."

"One song or I'll tell Quinn about the stash of playboys in the bathroom cabinet."

"You wouldn't. She's still on my tail for that folder of that new strip club that I accidentally didn't throw away the second we got it in the mail, and that was months ago."

"Test me. This is important to Marley and you know how I feel about Marley."

"Yeah, I know, I just experienced an hour and a half ceremony because you guys couldn't stop talking about _how much you loved each other_ and _how blessed you were_ and _how many babies you were going to have_ and blah blah blah before you proceeded to make out for half an hour. She's already pregnant, give it up, man."

"One song or I might just ask my lovely sister-in-law to dance," Jake smirks and Puck rolls his eyes.

"You play a harsh game, bro."

He pats his back with a chuckle, "Have fun up there."

He spots Marley sitting by herself at the main table. Her curly hair is down now and her cheeks are slightly red and she looks so beautiful and he just kind of really loves her so much?

"Ready for our first dance?"

"Definitely," she takes his hand with a smile and he just, really just _has_ to kiss her, so he does.

They hear Puck clear his throat as he taps his finger down onto the microphone, "I'm here to sing one song. No requests, no encores— one song. For my fantastic new half-sister-in-law and her idiot of a husband— here's a thousand years, _or whatever_," he adds the last part muttering as the music starts.

He puts his hand on her waist and she puts hers on his shoulder and her stomach is kind of separating them, but it's alright. It's a pretty damn good separator.

"My feet hurt," she moans a little, just as Puck starts the first chorus, and she looks down at their feet. Although she's wearing flats the pregnancy is still taking its toll on her.

He takes one of her hands and spins her around, "You want to sit down?'

"No, I'm fine," she smiles, moving a stray of hair out of her face. "This is all pretty amazing, Jake. I can't believe you did all of this for me."

"Well, you deserve it, Lee," he replies without missing a beat as he kisses her cheek. He winces as she steps down on his toes.

"Hey, you're the dancer, not me," she teases him as more people join them on the dancefloor.

"So any other Christian marriage traditions I should know about?"

"Well, for one, the husband is prohibited from refusing any of the wife's requests, the wife has first choice privileges about everything and we can only have sex on the third thursday of the month."

His eyes widen a little as he casually nods his head. Now he knew why Puck insisted on having a Jewish wedding, Christians were fucking insane. "Oh.. That sounds like fun."

She laughs, squeezing his hand, "You're that gullible, really, Jake?"

"Well _Mrs. Puckerman_," he starts, smiling, as he twirls her around another time, "I don't care about any of that as long as I have you. All I need is you."

"And our daughter."

"And our son," he repeats without a beat.

She narrows her eyes a little, "Daughter."

"Son."

"Funny thing, I think the bible actually says the third thursday of the _year_."

"Our daughter, fine," he gives in and she smiles widely, leaning forward to kiss him.

…

He pets Baylor as he jumps on the bed and lays down next to Marley's feet. She smiles, trying to sit up and pet him but eventually giving up and sighing as she leans back against the headboard.

"I can't wait for this to be over. I can't do anything."

He chuckles, helping her sit up and placing a kiss on her temple. "You're doing great. I could've never done it."

"Yeah, I can't really imagine you pregnant," she laughs, kissing his bare shoulder before resting her head there.

"You know what I mean, I really love you."

She looks up at him, her eyes softening, "I love you back—" she interrupts herself by letting out a small gasp.

"Do I need to get the bag? Is it coming? Did your water break?"

"No," she laughs, but he's already halfway to the door. She waves him over and takes his hand and puts it on her stomach, "She's kicking."

Fuck. He kind of can't wait for this to be over either.

…

"I can't believe you did this to me!"

"I'm sorry, I just—"

"No, shut up! Just shut up! I hate you so much!"

"Push, come on, just one more push," a nurse tries to encourage her by patting her arm.

"You push yourself, woman! Jesus Christ! Where is my mom? I want my mom," Marley's voice changes from angry to sad to desperate within two seconds and to be honest, he's kind of scared of what'll come next.

"One more push, Mrs. Puckerman," the gynecologist tells her and she responds by letting out a loud scream. She's crying and her face is sweaty and red and he feels really bad because he kind of did this to her, and he fucking hates seeing her in so much pain.

"You're doing great, baby, come on," he states, managing to repress the urge to throw up or run away or break out in tears.

"Don't," she warns him, putting up a finger while trying to cause permanent damage to his hand. At least she hasn't threatened to kill him— like he heard about in Puck's horror stories. He guesses he's kind of lucky.

After a moment the cries of an baby invade the room and it kind of sounds really weird and new and exciting and he _knows_ he's lucky. He had tried not thinking about labor because that shit was weird, all right. There's like a full grown baby coming out of Marley that's partly his and it's scary.

But she did it all by herself and he's really proud of her in a non-demeaning way— not that he thought she couldn't do it, he just never knew it would be this fucking hard and the fact she still did so, _so_ amazing— and of himself, kind of, too.

And there she is (Marley's always right), _their_ little baby. He's kind of never fell in love this fast with anything, he realizes as they hand the baby to Marley and congratulate them again.

"She's so pretty," Marley cries, tears rolling down her cheeks and he kisses her and then their baby because she is really pretty, so pretty and he loves her so much, already and it's still scary— maybe even scarier than he thought— but it's okay because he can pretty much handle anything if he has Marley by his side.

...

"_say everything you've always wanted,_

_be not afraid of who you really are,_

'_cause in the end we have each other,_

_and that's at least one thing worth living for,_

_and i would give the world to you._"

…

**a/n: thank you for all the reviews and follows and favorites! song is this is the new year by ian axel. jake and marley are so cute and ryder i love you and your puppy dog eyes but go away :) pleassssee review? it'd mean the world**

...


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